


A ball of yarn

by I_hate_mages_No_you_dont



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Fenders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 44,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8361685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_hate_mages_No_you_dont/pseuds/I_hate_mages_No_you_dont
Summary: Anders and Fenris end up on a rescue attempt for Hawke, that turns out to be nothing more than a not so secret plan of Isabela's.The pirate is determined to get mage and elf together, Fenris is violently against the scheme and Anders continuously dumbstruck by his friends. What exactly is going on?!(by glowelf and kittenmage)





	1. To get the ball rolling

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic was born out of a simple prompt and quickly evolved into something more... complex.  
> The chapters are written in turns by both of us. Kittenmage starting and writing the parts that focus mostly on Anders' POV and glowelf focusing on Fenris' POV.
> 
> The first chapter deals with an omnious mission to save Hawke. It all starts with a red thread that leads the not-yet-friends down into the dungeons beneath Hawke's mansion.  
> What is Isabela even up to?
> 
> (by kittenmage)

“Ouch!!! You’re stepping on my feet!” Anders nudged Fenris into the shoulder and moved a few paces forward to avoid the angry elf. Not a moment too soon, when Fenris growled back at him. “Don’t piss me off, mage! Why did you stop anyway?!”

“Because it ends here… no more yarn anywhere!”

He shook his head in frustration. A ball of red yarn tightly in his hand. The loose end hanging down, ending in midair.

\---  
Three hours earlier  
\---

“Hawke?!” Fenris entered Hawke’s mansion. It was time for their weekly round of cards in the Hanged Man. But Hawke had never shown up that night. There was no answer, at least not from the person Fenris was looking for. Instead the blond mage came down the stairs and shock his head. “Not here.”

“Hawke never misses a game! And what are you doing here anyway?! Using blood magic on Bodhan to get better prices?!” Fenris was hiding behind the snarky banter he and the healer always shared. Better than showing to much concern for Hawke anyway.

But before Anders could catch his breath for a no doubt long and angry reply, Isabela stormed into the hall out of the cellar. Her eyes were wide with fear, one end of red wool thread in her hand.

“Hawke’s down there…. only left this!”, she screamed out of breath and in apparent panic. Within second Anders was by her side trying to calm her down.

„What are you talking about Isabela?”

She pointed weakly at the entrance to the cellar. “Somewhere down there… only the thread leading down… I didn’t get far… too dark… there is something down there… dangerous…”

“MAGES!” / “Templars?!” Exclaimed Fenris and Anders at the same time, followed by a quick dark glance at each other. “We’ve got to find Hawke!”

Fenris was halfway down the hall, when Anders followed. “Isabela, you’ll stay here! If Hawke somehow returns by a different way!”

“You’re not coming with me!!!”

“If Hawke’s hurt, a healer would be a good thing to have!”, Anders snarled back and grabbed the red thread leading down into the darkness.

“You… arrrr!” A low grumble followed, but Fenris didn’t resist the obvious logic behind that.

As soon as they were out of the room, Isabela’s fearful expression turned into a wide grin. “Those two will thank me later! They definitely need some time together!” She turned towards the kitchen, where Hawke eyed through the half-open door. “Don’t you agree!”

\---  
One hour later  
\---

“Do you really think Hawke is down here?!” So far the most dangerous encounters they had had in the tunnels underneath Hawke’s house where rats and avoiding to get stuck in spider webs. In Anders’ case at least. Fenris was walking behind the mage, emanating a faint blue glow and could exactly see where the cobwebs had been destroyed by the taller man in front of him. He had dared to tell the mage that he was an excellent tool to remove spider webs from ceilings, though instead of an annoyed grunt Anders had started to laugh.

“So you have to admit, I am good for something. I am touched, Fenris, really touched.” He smirked back at the slightly stronger glow, immediately regretting it, because he felt the sticky web of another spider in his face. “But I agree… something seems odd. Either we are not far enough down or Isabela was wrong about the dangerous part.”

“Or wrong altogether. Why would Hawke wander through this darkness without us? The more I think about it the more it seems like a terribly stupid decision to believe Isabela.” Fenris crunched his teeth. Why indeed did they believe the pirate wench in the first place?

“Well, if you wouldn’t have been dashing forth to be the hero…”, Anders remarked.

“YOU followed instantly! Just as big of a fool, aren’t you!” They spend a moment glaring at each other in the darkness. Although it was no use blaming each other. Both had panicked and moved into action by the very mention of Hawke being in trouble. A bunch of useless friends they were.

Anders sighed and brushed through his hair in frustration. “There is nothing we can do anyhow… I didn’t mark the way we came, so whatever it is that waits at the end, this is the direction we’ll go.”

“Who said you’re in charge, mage!”

“I’m the one with the ball of yarn!” Shaking the red wool in his hand as proof of his point. “… that sounded silly.” He laughed, then stopped himself. _‘Since when was he laughing in front of that mage hating elf?’_

“Do you have a better plan?!” He finally said and turned towards Fenris. The elf just frowned and gave a quick nod with his head. “Lead on!”

The whole situation screamed “WRONG” to Fenris, but he had no choice. At least the mage wasn’t as bad a companion as usual, when he wasn’t ranting about is stupid manifesto all the time.

The next two hours there wasn’t much talking, or any other sound, besides the dripping of water, or rustling of some small animal in the narrow dungeon. The ball of yarn got bigger and bigger, but still no end or clearing. Fenris expected them to be at least as far down as Darktown.

Once Anders followed a sudden impulse to break the awkward silence with. “Thanks for glowing by the way!” Which he instantly regretted a lot, cause the elf shortly beamed even brighter before shouting at him in Tevene. Maker knows what curses he directed at him. Anders stopped the teasing. He didn’t care much for a sword in the back and would prefer his heart beating in his chest, not crunched by the angry elf.

Fenris was fuming for some minutes. Dare he talk of ‘glow’! _‘Was he some sort of torchlight for that dumb mage?!’_ He wanted to scream something about not being the only one who could illuminate the way, but could stop himself last minute. He would much rather walk on with Anders than Justice. “Better even alone…” he mumbled to himself angrily. To be fair he was angrier at himself for even allowing the thought of being ok with Anders presence, than at the mage actually being around. Yes, something was definitely wrong tonight.

“What was that?” Anders frowned. The walk was tiresome. He did his best not to give Fenris a reason to kill him before they were out of that situation, so no talking, no manifesto and no teasing about the glowing again. Which was sad, in Anders’ opinion. It amused him how Fenris had flared up like a candle when he teased him.

The path had widened a bit. More space, less cobwebs to get stuck in and many bends. It even got a bit lighter. Anders could have sworn that the surroundings looked mildly familiar. They had walked for so long, but he was almost sure that they were near Darktown again, not far from his clinic… but why the long detour?

Suddenly he stopped. The thread in his finger came to an end. There was no more yarn ahead. They were standing at a corner now and Anders had no clue where to go from there. That was when Fenris bumped into Anders stepping on his foot in the process.

“Ouch!!! You’re stepping on my feet!”

Fenris blushed slightly. _‘Why hadn’t he noticed that the mage had stopped? How could he be so absent minded in the presence of an abomination?’_

“Don’t piss me off, mage! Why did you stop anyway?!”, he snapped at him in frustration.

“Because it ends here… no more yarn anywhere!”

Fenris looked down at the mage’s hands. There was the ball of yarn that had grown to an astounding size. The end of the thread was visible in the bad light of their surroundings. _‘Light? When had they entered a lighted area?’_ When Fenris realized where they were, he grunted in sudden rage.

“Has this been your idea?! A funny way to drag me along on a senseless trip in order to torment me?!” Fenris grabbed the surprised mage by the upper arms and pushed him against the wall behind them. Although there was no need for light any more, his lyrium tattoos were glowing stronger by the minute. “We’re next to your clinic, you idiot!”

Anders was completely startled. _What was going on?!_

The completely bemused expression in the other man’s eyes made Fenris loosen his grip. He was confused. _‘What kind of game was this? If not the mage than it must have been Isabela’s doing. But why?!’_

“I… I am sorry to disappoint you, but I can think of better ways to spend my time than stumbling through dark tunnels with you!” It was a halfhearted attempt of a joke on Anders’ part. Fenris frowned again, opened his mouth to say something, but instead let go of the mage entirely.

“Ohhh… noooo…. I thought now was the moment you’ll swoon into each other’s arms! Go back to the grabbing part, please!!!” In mock disappointment Isabela came round the corner with Hawke trailing behind her, suppressing a big grin.

Fenris’ face froze. He stared at Isabela with an expression of disgust that was normally exclusively directed at Anders or Merrill. “YOU…” he growled through clenched teeth. His hands shivered with anger. Instead of attacking Isabela he turned to Hawke. “I TRUSTED YOU!”

Hawke tried an apologetic smile that unluckily for her did calm neither elf nor mage. “It was her idea… oh come on… you didn’t kill each other. It surely wasn’t so bad!”

Fenris just stared for a moment longer, then turned and made for the quickest exit out of Darktown. Cursing constantly. Hawke’s soft laughter and Isabela’s hopeful ‘did we interrupt something?!’ following him.

Anders, after sorting the weird plan and intentions of his two friends in his mind, just sighed. _‘What has gotten into them to try and bring Fenris and him together?!’_

“I’m going to keep this. Payment for this stupid quest, Hawke!” Anders lifted the ball of yarn up into the air for Hawke to see and then turned towards his clinic. “Oh and Isabela! Next time you got a hangover…”, he looked over his shoulder towards the surprised former pirate captain, “don’t come to me for help!”


	2. The elf, wine and a plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being tricked into spending time with Anders in the dungeons, Fenris reflects on the situation.
> 
> His favourite wine is definitely helping and soon the elf comes up with a decision: The damned pirate will bleed for this! (Perhaps not literally...)
> 
> (by glowelf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic was born out of a simple prompt and quickly evolved into something more... complex.  
> The chapters are written in turns by both of us. Kittenmage starting and writing the parts that focus mostly on Anders' POV and glowelf focusing on Fenris' POV.

“Fasta vass!”, Fenris ended his rant. He had finally escaped his so-called friends. He had to admit that he was shocked. 

They had not only been pretending that Hawke was in danger – he had more than willingly taken the role of the white knight, which he usually would leave for others to pick – BUT they had also lured him into the tunnels beneath the city, just to spend some time with the abomination. _‘What a waste!’_

The elf entered the borrowed mansion. Sneaking through the dim corridors. Like a cat, only Fenris knew where best to tread and, well, where not to. He passed a pile of dust, which had fallen off the roof along with a brick some time ago. Then he leaped onto the wooden banister to avoid one of the fake corpses he had placed there. With grace he completed his spurt, opening the door to his bedroom with one foot while jumping in. 

_‘So. Here I am again’_ , he thought and sat onto his bed. _‘At least I wasn’t the only one to fall for their bad joke…’_ Fenris couldn’t help but wonder why Hawke had agreed to such a mischievous operation. Slowly he removed his gauntlets and breastplate. 

_‘Why is it so important to Hawke that the mage and I do get along better?’_ , he questioned himself. Perhaps for the first time in his post-slavery life, he realized that his doings indeed did matter to some people. Friends. Whatever. 

Unable to sit still the elf got up again, lingering through the mansion. The cool night had followed his path from Darktown up here, feeding the shadows of the empty rooms. Unlit candles watched solemnly as the first rays of moonlight fell through the hole in the roof. Fenris suddenly felt lost. His anger had burned off, leaving nothing but a worn down warrior behind. He almost pitied the mage, knowing that he had been in an especially foul mood today – earlier the elf had witnessed how an apple selling child had been “removed” out of Hightown by the Templars, but it would have drawn too much attention on himself if he had intervened… On the other hand, the abomination always seemed to be in desperate need of annoyance. And of course Fenris couldn’t resist helping him…

He picked up a bottle of wine from the cellar and returned to his bedroom. Carelessly he dropped onto the bed, back first. The sudden pain in his limbs made him hiss. Fenris’ lyrium tattoos started to glow weakly, filling the room with a spooky blue. 

“Kaffas!”, he snarled and tried to calm himself down. Two, three, four sips of wine and the stinging pain was once more reduced to white noise in the back of his head. Examining the lyrium vessels on his fingertips his thoughts returned to the mage, who had been no help with Isabela, yet had taken the joke on them not as bad as Fenris had. Everything the abomination seemed to care for were his fellow mages, his patients... And his manifesto of course. Fenris couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything personal the mage was longing for. He often spoke of freedom. Those were the moments the elf listened carefully. He actually liked the passionate tone the mage used, whenever he got carried away by his own words.

Shaking his head slightly Fenris sighed. He took another sip of wine. Staring through the hole in the ceiling he could see the first stars, little bright spots in the middle of a dark blue ocean. If only he could escape into that endless sky. If only he could be free.

 _'A man can chose to be free regardless of his surroundings if he is brave enough to break his chains.'_ The mage’s words echoed through Fenris’ dizzy head. Anders… He too was anything but a free man.

 _‘We’re not so different after all’_ , he mused. Hadn’t today been another example for that?! Both of them had thoughtlessly hurried to safe Hawke, falling for the pirate’s trick so easily… Their journey through the tunnels had not been pleasant, but they would have teamed up with each other to aid Hawke. The elf was eager to keep this to himself, but he even would have had Ander’s back, if they had run into some blood mages or demons. For Fenris this was a big thing. Especially if one was considering that the mage put his comrades in that very same danger every time they were exposed to a situation in which Anders potentially could lose control. And in Fenris’ view that was 24/7. 

_‘The mage really should be more thankful!’_ , the elf thought. But then on the other hand he would never reveal this secret to the mage. Parts of their conversation drifted through his mind, meaningless floating by, making him sleepy. _'Thanks for glowing by the way!'_

Fenris choked on his wine. _‘Screw you mage!!! And double screw you pirate!’_

He jumped out of bed, his marks burning bright. The world took a few spins, then Fenris was steady again. The wine was warming him from inside and a witty plan had just manifested itself in his alcohol-clouded mind. He chuckled in a menacing way, picking up his gauntlets. The chuckle prolonged into a soft bubbling. Frantically the elf fumbled the straps of his right gauntlet back in place. Then there was another gauntlet, one, two, three straps, done, finally a breast plate to adjust, another strap and another… why were there so many straps?!

“Kaffas!” Noticing how long it took him to get back into his armour the glee was suddenly replaced by an unpleasantly sober feeling. 

“Nevermind!”, he encouraged himself. It was the perfect time to make Isabela pay. And Hawke would sure take a part in this.


	3. Broken glass and too much thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders isn't taking Isabela's meddling as well as it seemed. And that ball of yarn isn't exactly helpful.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic was born out of a simple prompt and quickly evolved into something more... complex.  
> The chapters are written in turns by both of us. Kittenmage starting and writing the parts that focus mostly on Anders' POV and glowelf focusing on Fenris' POV.

As soon as the clinic’s door was shut behind Anders a deep sigh escaped his lips. _‘Andraste’s Knickerweasle’s!’ What indeed had Isabela and Hawke been thinking?!_

It was true, Fenris and he hadn’t been as violently antagonistic for some weeks now. But what could have made the two women so determined on them getting involved. Anders blushed despite himself. Stupid, stupid idea! Yes, Fenris was quite handsome, but his temper was worse than a dragon’s and even if Anders would be interested – which he wasn’t – he would never overcome Fenris’ burning hate for mages.

Anger welled up in Anders. In a fit of rage, he threw the ball of yarn through the room. It hit the opposite wall and knocked some bottles out of the shelf.

“Damnit!” He quickly moved over and tried to save whatever he could with magically fixing the broken glass. Anders wasn’t very upset about Isabela. She had flirted with everyone in their company by now, maybe even more than that in some cases. Lately she wasn’t contend with getting people in her bed, no, she wanted to play matchmaker and kept pushing Merrill and Hawke together.

“That won’t work...”, Anders muttered while reassembling a huge health potion bottle. It may have been too subtle for the pirate to get, but as far as Anders could see there were some tiny signs of affection between Hawke and Varric, notorious storyteller and mother hen. Anders sighed again.

But why was Isabela so determined to get him together with the impulsive elf. With Hawke’s help nonetheless. That was what made Anders angry again… Hawke. So far she had been a better friend than most Anders had had over the years. They’d been talking about Ferelden a lot. Hawke knew about Ser Pounce-a-lot, about his escape history…. and about Karl. A stab of guilt and rage filled Anders whenever he thought about his former friend and lover. Whom he had killed. Because Karl insisted.

His heart almost froze when he had seen that Karl had been made tranquil. The emptiness in his eyes… and the moment Anders had stabbed him, to free him of that existence.  
Anders still dreamed about that… and Hawke knew.

So why in the Maker’s name would she try to set him up with anyone, let alone Fenris who had made it very clear from their first meeting on that he hated mages, hated demons, spirits, everything that could be suspected to be magical?!

Anders anger faded to frustration. He hated to be hated… it hurt that every look from Fenris screamed disgust. But to be fair… he hadn’t been friendly or welcoming either. Angered by Fenris’ prejudices and behaviour towards him, Anders did his best to hide is own hurt behind insulting and teasing Fenris.

“Ouch!” Anders cut himself at a glass shard. **_‘Too much thinking, not enough focus, Anders!’_** Justice scolded him and Anders immediately send some healing magic towards his hand.

When he was finished cleaning the mess on his shelf he took up the ball of yarn and placed it next to his manifesto. “Can’t destroy anything there!” Anders glared at the red thread, then laughed at himself. “Now I am even talking to a ball of yarn… Maker I must be lonely…” His expression turned a bit bitter.

Well, he was.

Some time and several pages in his manifesto later, Anders turned to blow out the candles and go to sleep. His glance stopped at the thread on his table. He smiled faintly. Despite all the cobwebs in his hair and face and the worry about Hawke at the start, the journey through the dark with Fenris had definitely been the best time the two had ever had. Anders laughed bitterly. It was worth something. And obviously might have saved Anders a lot of money. He was terrible at cards and had he spend the evening at card night, he would have lost a small fortune, to be sure. **_‘You shouldn’t play anyway!’_** , said Justice in his mind matter of factly, but Anders just frowned at it. He needed to have time with his companions… his friends. He couldn’t, he mustn’t stay alone…


	4. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is card night, but Fenris hasn’t come for the game. His revenge plan has almost been fulfilled and he is there to reap the fruit of his labour.  
> (by glowelf)

The hanged man, three days later. 

Fenris shoved a pouch over the table and a smiling dwarf took it. “Thanks for the ink!”

It was card night, but Fenris hadn’t come for the game. His revenge plan had almost been fulfilled and he was there to reap the fruit of his labour. Fenris and the dwarf were the only ones in Varric’s private suite so far, but the others would arrive soon.

“I’m getting myself a drink, Broody. You want something, too?”, asked Varric and Fenris shook his head. “No thanks. Still have my wine.” His glass was half empty, but he wanted to enjoy the upcoming spectacle with a clear head. 

After half an hour Merrill entered the tavern. The pale elf took the stairs gracefully and sat down with a sigh. “Hello Varric. Hi Fenris. Where are the others?”

Fenris had difficulties to hide his smile. “I guess they must still be searching Hightown for the abomination.” Varric threw him a subtle knowing glance and confirmed his statement: “I saw Isabela and Hawke looking for Anders at a warehouse about two hours ago.”

Worriedly Merrill raised her eyebrows. “What has happened to Anders?”

“Don’t you ask me. Probably he has gone totally nuts?!” Fenris chuckled darkly. His plan was so fucking brilliant.

“This morning I heard the rumour that our healer was seen in Hightown, frantically ransacking every merchant shop for cats. Guess he wanted to get himself one. Considering the regular Templars patrols and all… I found it necessary to inform Hawke and Isabela.”

The bloodmage bit her lower lip. “And? Have they found Anders? Why are you not helping them?” It was Varric’s turn to keep up their scheme. “I have been asking my contacts about Blondie. But up till now… nothing.” Immediately Merrill’s glare turned to the warrior. “And you Fenris? I mean, you don’t like Anders much, but still… You need to help him!”

“I have been checking his clinic in Darktown and the streets down there. No sign of our favourite abomination.” He had told Hawke and Isabela exactly the same when meeting them earlier. It was an outright lie, but he didn’t feel bad about it.

Fenris was sure Anders had spent all day in his clinic as usual. Therefore, he had generously taken over the part to search the healer there. Of course the elf had not set a foot in Anders’ clinic. He had returned to his mansion and relaxed, while Hawke and Isabela ran all over Hightown, checking on every merchant who sold cats. Isabela was allergic to cats, so their trip must have been quite unpleasant. A devilish smile crept on Fenris’ face.

Merrill was convinced way too easily. Frowning she sipped at her drink, then she sat still, throwing a nervous glance at the door from time to time. She had no clue that all of this was a lie, created to avenge Fenris’ trip through the tunnels a few days ago. He was actually surprised how easily Hawke and the pirate had fallen for his act.

Fenris had found it necessary to let Varric in on his plan though. Most likely the dwarf would have seen through Fenris, revealing his true intentions too early. Therefore, he had bought Varric’s silence with some special ink. 

After another hour a pissed Hawke returned, accompanied by a cloaked person. That must be Isabela!

The pirate had covered herself up with a veil, hiding her face, neck and all the usually uncovered skin down to her décolleté under a translucent cloth. The women sat down in silence. They obviously had the intention to drown their sorrows in beer. Both had brought along two huge tankards and started emptying them immediately.

“Did you find the mage?”, asked Fenris innocently and hid his grin behind his glass. Hawke shook her head. Desperation in her voice she muttered: “Isabela and I went to every merchant in Hightown! Every warehouse, every shop… No trace of Anders.”

There was a sneeze to be heard. The pirate cursed and pulled back the veil. Her face was swollen, red spots covering her dark skin. “If I have to see another cat today I swear I’m going to kill it, no matter how cute those furry beasts are!!!”

This was the moment the mage entered. All eyes darting at him, Anders blushed, utterly confused by the unwanted attention. “Did I miss something?”

It was also the moment Fenris realized he had better informed Anders. Shocked he stared at the mage. He had forgotten to tell him about the revenge plan. “Kaffas…”

The pirate jumped to her feet, grabbing Anders by his lapel. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN???!” The mage shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “Eh, at my clinic. Where else would I be? What has happened to your face? You look ill.”

 _'Venhedis!'_ Fenris bit his lower lip and watched Isabela cornering the mage. Feeling the stinging pain of guilt in his chest the elf clenched his fists. It had not been his intention to make Anders suffer, too. It wouldn´t trouble Fenris the slightest to tell everyone it had been his plan, and his plan alone. The problem was that he didn´t want to admit he actually cared for Anders in front of the whole group. Embarrassed he blushed. He was pinned to the spot, just sat there and stared, unable to intervene or put Anders out of his undeserved misery.

By now dawning realization hit the pirate and she slowly turned to face Fenris. “YOU!!! This was all your plan!” She shook Anders to let off some steam. Hawke threw Fenris an angry glance. “We have been combing through Hightown all day!”

The warrior couldn´t help it. This was the triumphant moment after all! He grinned sheepishly. “You two had it coming.”


	5. Vengence Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders has to deal with the aftermath of Fenris' "brilliant" plan.  
> (by kittenmage)

“Would someone be gracious enough to inform me what is going on right now?!”, Anders interrupted the fierce glaring between Hawke, Isabela and Fenris in utter confusion and a bit dizzy due to Isabela shaking him only seconds earlier. Since the incident with the ball of red yarn and the fake search for Hawke, Anders hadn’t been keen on his friends’ company. He had been busy at the clinic anyway with little time to do anything but heal and prepare potions and salves. Little enough time for sleeping and eating in between. But card night was card night and he grudgingly chose to show up and face the others again - whatever might be Isabela’s plans for him tonight after her last failed attempt at matchmaking. “And could you let go of me Isabela, you’re strangling me!”

Isabela let go off Anders’ collar. “Ask HIM!” Furiously she pointed at the elf. “This is all his doing…” Her rage was broken by a violent sneeze that had her lean against Anders, while rubbing her nose in frustration. “Maker, make it go away”, she whined before turning her glare towards Fenris again. With her eyes all swollen up and watery it didn’t really have a menacing effect though. Instead it looked rather pitiable. Anders – though in no mood to feel pity for her, felt exactly that sentiment well up. Not even someone who annoyed him as much as the pirate recently did, deserved something like this. His eyes wandered over the red swellings and her watery eyes. What had Fenris done?

The elf in question hadn’t replied so far, watching Isabela’s current state with a grim smile. Hawke on the other hand sat on her seat indecisive what to do next. Follow Isabela’s example and let off some steam by shaking Fenris? Or aiding the rogue who had been suffering the side effects of being in contact with cats all day? After some seconds of looking back and forth between the two options she settled for something different entirely.

“As payback for all the trouble we had today for NOTHING, it is only fair, if you take a look at cats tomorrow and get one for Anders! For real!” This dumbfounded Fenris for a second and as Hawke realized her momentary victory, she started to grin and took a big sip from her ale.

Merrill, who was eyeing the situation with just as much confusion as Anders, beamed all of a sudden. “Anders is getting a kitten from Fenris? Do we need to celebrate something?” Then she recollected the first half of Hawke’s sentence. “Or is the cat meant as an apology?” Varric chuckled softly but kept to himself. _‘Better let the guys settle that themselves!’_ Fenris had paid him for his silence after all.

As Anders followed the conversation and glares and smiles in the room, still half an eye on Isabela’s unhealthily red skin, a picture of what exactly had happened formed itself in his mind. He sighed. “Let’s see, if I got this right. Fenris had a little revenge plan for our walk through the dungeons, that included cats and a lie about me being in danger?” His intense gaze flicked over his companions coming to a halt at Fenris’ self-sufficient sneer that dropped a little at his words. “Am I right?!” _‘Please let me be wrong! Couldn’t that elf have come up with a revenge plan that I could agree with? Something funny, not painful?!’_ **_‘Revenge is unjust!’_** , boomed Justice as a firm reply to Anders’ own thoughts.

Fenris frowned. “Whatever, mage.” But this was confirmation enough for Anders – along with Hawke nodding and Isabela sneezing again. _‘I hate to be right…’_

With another sigh Anders turned towards Isabela. “Keep still! I can at least reduce the swelling.” Isabela let out a whimper that Anders read as ‘yes’ and he immediately got to work. Soft waves of healing magic washed over Isabela’s face, neck and chest, making the red blots and swollen parts disappear almost instantly. “Might still itch a bit. But I can give you a balm against that.” Suddenly turning to Fenris, Anders’ neutral expression hardened into exasperation. “And you! I can’t believe you thought it fit to plague someone with a severe allergy like that! Yes, Hawke and Isabela were total idiots in sending us down the cellar and on a fool’s errant for hours - and I am still mad at them - , but at least nobody got hurt! Maker, I thought you were less childish!” Yes, Anders was still mad at Hawke and Isabela. Yes, he, too, had played with the thought of payback for the wasted evening and the ill-advised matchmaking. But this?! No this was too much!

At Anders’ words Fenris’ face went from pale to bright red in anger. But before he could lash out about anything like ‘adult mages’, Hawke broke into a shaking laughter. “Childish?!”, she wiped away a single tear while trying to stop herself from laughing again, “so, you refusing to talk to me for days, is such an adult thing in comparison?! I would never have believed Fenris’ ridiculous story with the cat, if I hadn’t thought you were stubborn enough to snob us from now on. And in search for new company apart from Justice.” Anders’ mouth opened and closed without a word coming out, his cheeks flushed bright red in shame. He was confused and shocked that Hawke would believe him capable of closing himself off because of something as insignificant as breaking his trust… ok well, yes, he might have considered not going near Hawke and Isabela for some time. But he never intended to do it. Not really. Anders swallowed his hurt feelings and looked away.


	6. Defeat, dead end, dumbstruck elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris' plan has failed. The realization that Isabela indeed intends to hook him up with his least favourite abomination doesn't improve things. And the blasted blood mage isn't helping either!  
> (by glowelf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merrill is a genius!

Saving his snarky comment about ‘adult mages’ for later – there would certainly be an opportunity – Fenris directed his gaze at Anders. _'So he had been avoiding the others, too? Funny enough.'_

“Are we done here?”, asked Hawke, her voice throaty from laughing. “I recall it to be card night and thanks to Fenris we are late already!” 

Hawke was as infuriating as ever. Her words ‘Fenris’ ridiculous story with the cat’ still stung. Since Fenris was unable to deal with the nagging feeling of guilt AND defeat, for his plan had absolutely not worked out the way he had wished for, he settled for brooding. In addition to Hawke’s disarming comment the mage, too, had chided him for his actions, which made Fenris feel pissed and … betrayed. It was that thought which made him even angrier. 

_‘Not that the mage and I had any agreement of some kind’_. Fenris had simply expected Anders to be on his side for once and have a laugh about Hawke’s and Isabela’s failed errand. Of course there was that thing with the allergy. Well. Fenris didn’t know it was that bad. On the other hand, walking through the dungeons with his least favourite companion, assuming Hawke to be in great danger hadn’t been fun either. _‘And the pirate has endured far worse!’_

While Hawke started dealing the cards the mage finally managed to sit down. The chair opposite to Fenris was no good choice though, since the elf intended to make Anders pay for his outburst earlier.

“Are you going to frown at me for the rest of the night?”, asked the mage only a few minutes later. “Perhaps”, retouched Fenris immediately. “For you could save your energy and spare my nerves. Won’t argue with a childish elf.” Playing a particularly good card the elf sneered. “I have plenty of energy left to argue.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “In contrast to some other people! Could the two of you shut it? Please?” Anders placed his chin on his folded hands. He had lost the game by now. “I did not send you on a fools’ errand through Hightown… But if you wouldn’t try to hook me up with that narrow-minded elf…”

“WHAT???”, exclaimed Fenris and interrupted the mage midsentence. His ears and cheeks suddenly felt very hot. 

Varric and Hawke started laughing so hard they almost spilled their drinks. 

Why did everybody know about Isabela’s doubtful plans already? _‘Even the damned mage!’_ Fenris couldn’t think straight. He jumped to the conclusion that Anders probably was enjoying this just as much as the others, since he didn’t seem to mind too much. _‘Having a good laugh about the dumb elf.’_ Furious Fenris emptied his ale in one go. 

“You are NOT going to hook up the mage with me!!!”, he snarled and directed a dark glance at the pirate. 

Isabela pouted in mock innocence. She even raised her hands in a defensive gesture. It was Anders who spoke up. “Who says that I would fall for you? You’re not exactly charming, you hate mages in general and me in particular, oh wait, did I mention you hate mages?”

“Enough!” Fenris jumped to his feet and his chair fell over behind him. He wanted to add “It’s more complex than that” but screwed it. He wanted to tell Anders that he didn’t hate him. Yes, certainly, the mage did annoy him. Often. But that didn’t mean he wanted him dead, or tranquil, or hurt. He had not turned him in to the Templars, had he?! 

Overcoming a life in slavery, being at the very will and command of a ruthless magister was not easy. And yes, Fenris admitted that he sometimes was difficult or acting strangely. At least to himself. But usually he meant no harm to his companions. Only Anders was not exactly helpful.

Fenris didn’t even know why the mage’s comment did hurt him that much. Probably he hadn’t presumed himself to appear that repulsive to Anders? _‘Wait… What? Why should I give a damn?!’_ Confused by his own thoughts and feelings Fenris frowned. Being confused, angry and hurt was getting him nowhere and he knew it. It was a deadly cocktail. 

“I’m leaving”, he hissed, his fists clenched, and turned to the door. It was impossible for him to stay any longer and he wouldn’t do anyone any good. 

“Are you really setting Fenris up with Anders?”, asked Merrill and for a second Fenris thought about returning to their table to scream at the blood mage face to face. He decided she wasn’t worth it, but her next sentence really put Fenris’ composure to test. 

“Fenris! Don’t forget to buy a cat for Anders!”

He turned, murder painted all over his face. Isabela had nudged Merrill with the elbow already, Hawke and Varric wore a worried expression. Once more it was the mage who interfered. Surprise and a hint of hope glimmering in his eyes he asked: “You’re really going to get me a cat???”

Fenris was speechless. 

He desperately fished for a reply – anything at all – but his mind had turned into a blank space. The lack of mockery in Anders’ question disarmed Fenris in a way he had not thought to be possible. _‘Why would a cat mean that much to him?’_

With his fury gone, hurt, shame and disappointment – mostly with himself – were the only things left. Fenris turned on his heels and literally ran for the door.


	7. the calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris' departure doesn't stop the matchmaking plans, nor Anders' mind from overthinking everything. And Varric is not really helpful.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

After Fenris’ frantic departure the game of cards had almost returned to the normal fashion. Everyone was talking, sometimes joking, and with her face no longer hurting as if stung by a thousand needles, Isabela even managed to insert some flirty remarks and winks at her companions. In the end, she won the most coin.

Anders had only played half-heartedly. He never intended to win anyway and even with Fenris gone – undoubtedly one of the best players in their group – his chances were so low that he didn’t even try. Fenris’ behaviour unnerved him. It was not the anger at the foolish revenge plan that lingered longest, but the question why in Andraste’s name the elf had known about Anders’ wish for a cat in the first place?! Anders couldn’t recall any conversation about cats the elf might have overheard. He didn’t talk as much about cats, not even Pounce-A-Lot. The memories hurt too much. So how did the elf come up with cats as the most believable explanation for the mage’s supposed shopping trip to Hightown? Of course, Hawke would believe him, she after all knew about Anders’ love for felines. A deep sigh involuntarily left Anders, that made Isabela turn towards him.

“Hey there, sweet thing. Thanks for healing earlier! I know you said I wouldn’t get your help next time, so…” She smiled one of her rare almost honest smiles and Anders replied automatically. “It’s nothing! Can’t let someone suffer. Especially not because of cats! They are far too cute to cause this.” He pointed at the still red rim around Isabela’s eyes. “You know I might even do something about that. Will take some time and research, but there has to be a way to remove that allergy permanently…” For a moment Anders was lost in thoughts. Quickly going through the books, he had in his possession, realizing almost instantly he would need Hawke’s library for this task. 

The pirate smiled mischievously and said: “Will you still help me if I say that I won’t give up yet?” Anders looked back at Isabela, who quickly emptied her ale and stood up. “There is still hope for you, Sparklefingers, and I will make the elf see what he misses!” She winked at the mage – how she managed such a seductive gesture in her current state was beyond Anders’ comprehension – and left the room with a nod towards the others. “Need some rest! Good night!” With this she was gone and left Anders quite speechless. Which didn’t happen too often.

Hawke and Merrill followed not long after and Anders remained in his seat, still in a state of shock, watching Varric as he cleaned the table and stashed away the cards and half empty bottles. “You were in on it, weren’t you”, was the thing Anders finally said after another silent minute. To that Varric merely chuckled. “You can’t deny it Varric, you were far too silent the whole night. Did you know about Isabela’s and Hawke’s silly matchmaking plans as well?” Anders raised a questioning eyebrow. Again, he hoped that his assumptions were wrong. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling that all his friends – excluding Merrill apparently – should be in on a determined quest to bring him together with a man that loathed him to the core.

“Oh Blondie, leave Hawke out of this. She simply thought the little adventure might give you and Broody some time to settle your differences, when no one else is around to prevent you from talking. The romance part of it was all Isabela’s idea.” Varric at least had the decency to blush slightly and shake his head. “Ah Rivaini is a bit mad if you ask me. Not even I would set up such a pair.” The dwarf let out a soft laugh and looked back at Anders. “I’m telling the truth. Only heard about your chase with the red thread afterwards.” At that Anders sighed. “Oddly enough I believe you, Varric. Though Hawke’s wish is only slightly less impossible as Isabela’s. You saw him tonight. I am lucky he no longer stares at me as if he wishes to kill me with glaring alone…” The mage brushed through his hair in frustration. It was easier with Fenris than at the start. But it would be a lie if Anders said, that he didn’t fear for the day when Fenris’ hatred for mages out won his loyalty to Hawke and would lead the Templars directly to his door. _‘No… Fenris wasn’t that kind of person!’_ Anders kept telling himself. Still the fear never wholly left him.

“I should go. Work at the clinic tomorrow!” Anders made for the door, picking his staff from the wall next to the entrance. “Night Varric!”

Before the door fell close behind him, Varric spoke up again: “Night Anders… and whatever you say, I agree with Hawke. You should talk with Fenris someday… really talk, not yell at each other. You two might be more alike than you think…”

\---

Anders hadn’t even attempted to open the door again and correct Varric’s point of view. He was too tired for that kind of conversation. And not sure if he would convince the dwarf in his sleepy state or rather would be convinced to try the foolishly impossible and talk with the Tevinter elf.

Back in the clinic the mage sat down at his desk and reached for his papers and ink. Despite what he had said earlier and the amount of healing he might have to do the next day, Anders’ thoughts were too busy to sleep. His mind was contemplating the dwarf’s words and Fenris’ startled expression as Merrill demanded a cat for Anders. The mage maybe fooled himself, but he was sure, that there had been an oddly soft gleam in the elf’s eyes. If only for a second. Sighing Anders buried his face in his hands. _‘No use!’_ There was no use thinking about the elf. He wouldn’t make himself sad over his best enemy-friend again. **_‘Mage rights!’_** exclaimed Justice and his inner voice in unison and Anders opened the inkwell.

\---

A week went by without as much as a hint of Fenris. Or almost all of his friends, Anders mused as he was busy brewing another health potion. Isabela had shown up early the next morning after card night to ask for the soothing balm for her skin. She even tried to offer Anders some money in exchange – exactly the amount she had won the previous evening, Anders noticed with a quick glance to her outstretched hand – but he had refused as usual. But the pirate was nothing if not persistent. An hour later she was back to the clinic, a basket filled with food and a new blanket for the patients that she placed at Anders’ desk before he could protest. She left with a kiss blown towards him and a soft chuckle.

A smile crept on Anders’ face at the memory of Isabela’s unexpected kindness. Out of all the people Anders had met during his short terms of freedom before he was dragged back to the circle all those years ago, he had never come across a person like Isabela. Someone so determined to appear strong and alluring and resilient to deeper emotions while being as kind hearted as it gets. Anders was even half way prepared to forgive Isabela’s meddling in his private life. Because he was sure now – after a weeks’ worth of sleepless nights and pondering over the topic – that Isabela only wanted the best for her friends. The mage was still sure that he was far from the best that could happen to Fenris, but he recognised Isabela’s efforts as something else than just simply toying with others… At least Anders hoped so and that he was not an idealistic, naïve idiot again.


	8. One of those days...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris takes his time to deal with the consequences of his vengeance plan. Fortunately - or unfortunately?! - Hawke intends to go on yet another mission and wants to bring Fenris along, too.  
> (by glowelf)

Fenris hated it to be alone sometimes. It had never before occurred to him and he frowned at the thought. Well, he moved his eyebrows the tiniest of inches. _‘Headache. Urgh.’_

The elf turned to lie on his belly and placed his head on his arms. Snuggled into them. It was one of THOSE days. _‘Kaffas.’_ One more day on which he partly wished to be dead and partly desired to finally get over his huge hangover to go on. 

After his inglorious leave from the Hanged Man, Fenris had been out of his mind. Too many emotions had been whirling around inside of him, his epic plan had failed, his companions now expected him to buy a cat for Anders, the abomination with whom they, too, wanted to hook him up. If he weren’t so tired he would have screamed at that thought. It was a stupid idea. _‘The mage dislikes me, I dislike the mage. Sure thing, this is never going to work and that bloody pirate should be happy we’re all working together at all!’_

The floor was uncomfortable and Fenris opened one eye lid to examine his position in the room. _‘No bed… Not the bed room.’_ He closed his eye again. He wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon…

After coming home on that screwed evening he had sat in the dark for hours, unable to fall asleep, yet unable to do something against it. On the following day Fenris had started drinking by midday, because his mind had been about to reflect on said evening and it annoyed him. _‘Ha, great idea!’_ Or so he had thought. 

_‘Fasta vass.’_ He felt very uncomfortable about the whole affair, since his emotional escalation, as he called it, had been embarrassing and unnecessary and stupid and the others would think less of him now and anyway they might think of him to be a cruel and mean person for torturing Isabela – Damn! Had he only known how bad her allergy was! – and Anders had pointed that out as well and he had called him childish and Hawke had kind of laughed about him and his plan and how in the Maker’s name could he get a cat for the mage anyway???

With a groan Fenris rolled over again, now staring at his ceiling. Should he perhaps open another bottle of wine? That would also soothe his pain… 

_‘Bottle. Out of reach.’_ Fenris closed his eyes and hoped that his hangover and the day in general would have passed when he woke up the next time. 

\---

Days went by, in which Fenris successfully avoided any contact with Hawke or the others. He had been drinking way too much. After falling down his stairs on one of those rather unpleasant days, he had realized that it indeed was unhealthy to replace food with wine. Which had made him think of Anders. Fenris had lost his count on how often the healer had told him what to eat, what not to eat and especially what not to drink, how to treat his wounds properly and so on. It also had reminded him of the cat discussion… 

“One offff those, human”, Fenris had demanded menacingly. The simple merchant had stared at his fully armoured appearance frightfully and opened the cage in which he held about five cats for sale. “Which one w-would you like? S-serah?”

Considering the amount of money Fenris had thoughtlessly placed on the counter it seemed only appropriate that the merchant showed some respect. “I dunna! Just gimme shat gingerissssh one”, Fenris had managed. “Er, no! Changed my mind. Black. White. Urgh. Black and white. That’sss the right one. Yesss.”

The important thing was that he had gotten himself a cute kitten. Fenris still wasn’t entirely sure how he had managed doing so, while being utterly wasted and unable to articulate properly.

Today he had mustered all his composure, not drunken as much as a sip of alcohol, and intended to go and see Isabela. He owed her an apology after all… It had taken him several days to finally brace himself up for it.

The elf was putting on his armour upstairs, when a person pushed open the front door without knocking and entered noisily. Alarmed Fenris activated his tattoos – Better safe than sorry! It could be thieves, slavers or, even worse, Danarius himself – and rushed out of his bed room to see what fate awaited him (or rather the unwelcome intruder).

“Hi Fenris!” Hawke. Of course. 

With clenched teeth and a will of iron, he had forged within years of training and discipline, Fenris deactivated the Lyrium. Pain remained and slowly faded into a numb feeling, as he focused his attention on his friend. “Hawke. I was not expecting you.”

“Oh!”, surprised, Hawke smiled. “You are sober. Good! I wanted to ask you out!”

“I guess you’re not talking about a date…” The woman laughed and it made Fenris feel a bit better. Hawke replied: “Aw, I think we could arrange that, too! But no, there are serious matters at hand!” She winked at him. “What a pity”, retouched Fenris, the sarcasm thick in his voice, but his mouth morphing into a thin smile. 

He was really glad that Hawke treated him as usual. A bit snarky. A bit flirty. But always friendly and sometimes even caring. Fenris had the feeling Hawke understood him, at least to some degree, and had decided to accept him as he was, yet never asking too many uncomfortable questions. 

_‘So she probably still likes me.’_

Hawke stretched and turned to the door. “Hubert asked me to check on the mine once more. The Bone Pit, ringing any bells?! Some workers have disappeared and there are a few nasty rumours about it.”

“The Bone Pit? Again? That sounds unpleasant.”

“Yeah, doesn’t it! I just need to see it! And I could really use your sword.” Fenris sighed. He wouldn’t turn Hawke down. 

“Of course. When do you wish to leave?”

“Tomorrow. Guess we should get going early in the morning!” _‘And here goes another peaceful day.’_

Fenris accompanied Hawke outside. He needed to see Isabela before they ran an errand together. _‘Don’t want to have that conversation in front of everyone and especially not Varric!’_ “Where are you heading?”, asked Fenris and hoped Hawke did not share his intention to pay the pirate a visit. “I’m going to see Anders. I haven’t asked him yet, but I intend to bring him along, too. Want a skilled healer with us in the Bone Pit, just in case.”

Was this another scheme to get the mage and him together?

Fenris kept his thoughts to himself and made sure to lock the door behind him. Both drew Hawke’s attention. “No comment on your least favourite mage? You surprise me, Fenris. And since when do you lock your door?”

_‘Since yesterday. Since I have bought a cat when I was utterly drunk. Because I don’t want her to disappear.’_

Putting on his poker face, the elf said: “I want to keep people out of the house.” That wasn’t even a lie. 

“Alright, whatever.” The two of them parted and Hawke waved. “See you Fenris!”

“Bye Hawke.”


	9. ‘Oh good, the Bone Pit… Wait! What?!’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke pays Anders a visit and asks him to accompany her to the Bone Pit. With Isabela. And Fenris.  
> The mage cannot believe his luck...
> 
> (by kittenmage)

A loud knock and heavy footsteps interrupted Anders’ musings.

“Can I come in?”, Hawke asked, already standing inside the clinic and closing the door behind her.

“Why do you even bother asking?” Anders smiled. Hawke was bound to appear sooner or later. She would never let too much time go by without a visit at his clinic. Sometimes they just talked, sometimes she needed healing and mostly the warrior dragged him along for various missions. “Oh Marian! See what you did there! Mud on my floor!” The mage threw a wink at Hawke, who laughed heartily and stepped closer. “I am so sorry I got my Hightown dust mixed up with your dirt down here. Will you ever forgive me?!” She batted her eyelashes and Anders replied with laughter himself. He shook his hair back and removed the cauldron from the fire.

“You seem to be in a good mood. That is rare.” Hawke’s voice dropped a little as she followed Anders’ movements closely. The mage stirred the potion one last time and then left it to cool down. His smirk faded a little. “You know me, the funniest apostate of Kirkwall!” Anders gestured for Hawke to sit down on one of the cots and took the place next to her. “Anything the matter with you? How’s Isabela? Haven’t seen her or anyone for days.”

At the thought of the last peaceful days, Anders barely managed to suppress a sigh. Judging by the fact that Hawke had started their conversation with jokes, whatever she wanted to say next couldn’t be to Anders’ liking. _‘Maybe someone is ill? No, then she would have come straight to the point. Maybe a mission then?’_ Anders hoped very much, that whatever the warrior wanted had nothing to do with her _‘friendship agenda’_.

Hawke answered with another ringing laughter. “Isabela is fine. Or at least she was yesterday. Had a girls’ night with Aveline and Merrill.” The suggestive wink that followed that sentence convinced Anders that he definitely didn’t want to know what ‘girls’ night’ meant. “Our pirate glares at every cat in passing and is all the more attentive to my Mabari. So, I can’t complain.”

Then Hawke sighed. Anders feared that she now would let the cat out of the bag. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” She gulped and Anders did the same. _‘Maker, come to the point woman!’_ Anders’ brain supplied, but he kept the comment to himself. Better not rush her. Maybe it was something serious?!

“Would you come to the Bone Pit with me… ?” Her eyes fixed on Anders in an expression that rivalled her dog’s. Anders let out a sigh of relief. _‘Oh good, the Bone Pit… Wait! What?!’_ “Please tell me you didn’t accept to investigate another mysterious disappearing of workers in that place? Again?!” As Hawke’s puppy eyes got even bigger with every word the mage said, Anders didn’t need her answer. He sighed. “So you lack someone to keep you from dying… am I right?” Anders raised an eyebrow. He hoped it showed his disdain, but whatever it looked like, Hawke effectively ignored his unwillingness. “So you’ll come along? I feared you might refuse.”

Anders shook his head. “Seems I have no choice if I want to see you back in one piece. Who is coming along…” He threw a glance at Hawke, who suddenly ruffled through the hair on the back of her head and looked anywhere but at Anders. “Isabela.” _‘Maker, today seemed to be his lucky day!’_ Anders rolled his eyes. “And? You never go with less than three companions. Who’ll complete our team this time?” The way how Hawke fidgeted even more after this, told Anders everything he didn’t want to know. “Seriously? You’ll bring Fenris?”

Hawke evaded his gaze. “I am sorry Anders. But I need a capable fighter and Aveline is busy.” Anders shook his head, fighting down all the biting remarks his mind and Justice supplied and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know… better have that elf with us, if it is another dragon. Every person between me and one of those fire breathing beasts is a gain!” Hawke raised an eyebrow at that, but was too relieved that Anders made a joke out of it, to say anything. “Good! Then I will come back tomorrow. Early morning. Maybe brew more of that health potion. You’ll never know.” She stood up, finally looking at Anders again. The mage followed. “You can bet on that! Health and lyrium. Not going anywhere with you without a decent stack of potions!”

As Hawke turned to leave her gaze fell onto the red ball of yarn that was still sitting on top of Anders’ manifesto on his desk. “You seriously kept it?”

“As I said I would! It’s payment for a job done after all!” He smiled, but it was a sad smile. Anders knew, but he couldn’t keep his disappointment hidden at that moment. Hawke had meant well (though the scheme was idiotic and bound to fail) and Anders and Fenris of course hadn’t reacted according to plan. They hadn’t talked. Or magically overcome all their differences. Not even some. Anders felt as if he had failed Hawke, which was ridiculous because he didn’t owe her anything in regards to Fenris. Still. _‘Could I have done anything to prevent the bad turn in the ‘friendship’ with the elf to begin with? Or now? Aren’t I mature enough to stop being a childish, proud prick of a mage and stop yelling at every comment of Fenris?’_ Memories from the last card night came flooding back. _‘No, I am just as much not an adult as Fenris…’_

“Anders?” Hawke stared at him quizzically, her eyes filled with worry. She obviously had no clue what was going on in Anders head. **_‘Let’s keep it like that!’_** , suggested Justice and Anders readily agreed. The mage shrugged, but Marian Hawke would not have been Marian Hawke if she had accepted this as an answer. “You are still mad because of it, aren’t you?” A heavy sigh left Anders involuntarily and now it was his turn to ruffle through his hair. “I am not mad. Not exactly. I just wonder how in Andraste’s name you came up with such an idea, anyway. It could have been dangerous, too!”

At that Hawke laughed briefly. “Dangerous? What could be more dangerous than the lyrium elf and the mage with the spirit inside?! Isabela and I made sure that there was nothing down these tunnels at any rate! Killed the big rats and spiders before we send you down there.” Anders mouth dropped and he stared at Hawke. He hadn’t realized exactly HOW much effort his friends had put into it. “We wanted to make sure that the most dangerous thing along your path would be each other. And I really had my hopes high that you would talk. You were in the tunnels for over three hours! Any normal person would have found a topic! I wasn’t convinced by Isabela, that you would swoon into each other’s arms the moment you were alone together, but at least some piece of reconciliation would have been nice. More neutral ground. Less yelling and mocking each other. Anything but fighting!” She sighed. “Although… I have to admit that I almost believed Isabela’s theory, when Fenris held you against that wall.” A sheepish smile flitted over Hawke’s face but turned into a serious expression soon enough. “I am not sorry, though! You need to talk!” She raised one eyebrow to make her point clear. “But I won’t interfere anymore.” 

The information he had just been given was racing through Anders’ mind. Adding to his guilt. **_‘There is nothing to be guilty of!’_** Justice bellowed eagerly. But Anders wasn’t so sure anymore. _‘Maybe it was time to start afresh. Be… nice… or start with civil. Yes. Be civil to the elf.’_

Hawke left. Anders stared. Justice yelled. That surely bode well for the trip to the Bone Pit. 


	10. There are no cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to the Bone Pit, Anders and Fenris share their first conversation after the disastrous card night. Things soon start to get out of hands (or rather into a tight grasp) when the mage confronts Fenris about getting him a cat and the elf desperately tries to keep his secret.  
> (by glowelf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this chapter was inspired by a conversation kittenmage and I had some time ago, about (caution minor spoilers) getting or not getting a cat as a present. Writing this peculiar scene was part of some sort of “evil master plan” I came up with after our debate.  
> (For the whole story, go, see http://ebonyblacksgoblinbox.tumblr.com/post/152963306458/infuriatingmage-this-is-so-fenris-and-anders )  
> I want to thank my beloved co-author for her unknowingly delivered input but also say sorry for absolutely. not. ever. getting her a cat ;)  
> Enjoy <3

Their small group had been walking for hours now, following a small winding path down to the Bone Pit. A cold wind was blowing and Fenris scowled at the scenery around him. He hated the mine. Its rotten smell was present for about ten minutes and it already strained his nerves. 

As Hawke had announced she was dragging along Anders and Fenris, who wasn’t happy about the Champion’s choice. Adding Isabela to their team made things even worse for the elf. He assumed that Hawke or at least Isabela still had the intention to interfere with his love life. 

Fenris sighed. 

Considering the things the pirate had told him, when Fenris had payed Isabela that visit to apologize for his revenge plan, the elf was more than certain their trip would end in a disaster. He hoped that it would be due to some spiders, dragons or even nasty demons and not due to some bickering… 

_‘Devious pirate!’_

For a short moment Fenris glared at Isabela’s back. The rogue was checking their path for traps and enemies and didn’t seem to notice the dark look the elf shot in her direction. Hawke and Anders were walking behind him, so he wasn’t interrupted as he once again silently repeated Isabela’s words. 

“I bet Anders had a cat once! Did you see that sad yet hopeful expression on his face… Oh! Yes! Judging by that look you did! He would be sooo happy if you got him a cat as Hawke suggested. I would greatly approve, too! You are aware of that, Fenris, are you darling?” 

Fenris had not revealed his secret to her. Snowpaw, up to now his cat, had turned out to be the loveliest wicked creature Fenris had ever encountered. Well. Not that he could recall anything before Danarius got him.

He admitted, that he shared Anders’ love for cats. They were awesome. No more comment necessary. But how could he deliver his present – it felt strange to even think of giving Anders a present – AND avoid the pirate’s endless colourful comments in the future?

Especially after all conversations including Isabela seemed to end in her new favourite subject – cats! – sooner or later. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the rogue waving and immediately started to run. 

“What is it?”, yelled Hawke, who had, too, seen the gesture and followed along. The mage was at her side, a stern expression on his face. He seemed to prepare himself for battle.

“Ah, no need to run”, the pirate laughed, as their group had gathered beside a huge rock. “I spotted a treasure. Thought you might want to take a closer look...” Before he could protest, Hawke had assigned Fenris to guard the path. Surprisingly Anders insisted on staying with him. Hawke had taken that in with a questioningly raised eyebrow, but said nothing. 

The pirate and she disappeared all too soon. A tense silence stretched out between elf and mage. 

“So… I wanted to talk to you, Fenris”, started Anders and nervously rubbed the back of his head. 

“What is it, mage?” As always, Fenris couldn’t get rid of the distrustful tone in his voice.

“Isabela was babbling about cats all morning… And I really do love cats. Just in case you wanted to know…”

 _‘Not good! Is Anders suspecting anything???’_ Subconsciously Fenris bit his lip. 

“Er, you are not going to get me a cat, are you?”, the mage asked coyly and validated Fenris’ suspicions. 

_‘Kaffas!’_ His mind started to reel. _‘What shall I reply? The truth? Then it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore!’_ The mage slowly raised his brows. _‘Answer something, at once! Anything!’_

“So, you’re expecting me to buy a cat for you?”, Fenris retouched and hoped his poker face would work. 

“No…”

“Would a cat be safe at your clinic?”

“I guess not…”, Anders sighed sadly. Fenris was surprised by that. “This makes no sense… You want a cat, though it would be in danger at your clinic?”

The mage suddenly clenched his fists. “Is it so difficult for you to understand why one wishes for the impossible?”

A lump formed in Fenris’ throat. He had obviously hit a nerve here. “Right, could we please stop this talk about cats? It makes me sad… and angry”, said Anders, turned on his heel and left a dumbstruck elf behind. 

“Fine”, replied Fenris in the general direction of the leaving mage. Then he would keep the cat. _‘Great. Well done Fenris! How you managed to deescalate the situation. Just great.’_ Furious with himself Fenris exhaled sharply. He had planned to try to treat his comrades more friendly, including the infuriating mage. It was the reason why he had went through all the trouble and bought the cat in the first place! _'But I couldn’t tell him yet! And perhaps not face to face… Fasta vass!’_

“Mage, wait!”, he shouted and left the path. They were at the Bone Pit after all. And danger was waiting behind every corner… 

After performing a short distance sprint Fenris was breathing heavily. He was used to the weight of his armour and huge sword, but usually he did not run after his enemies. Or friends. At least not without his lyrium activated. The mage had been fast and due to his taller size definitely in advantage. This made Fenris annoyance even worse as he reached his target. 

Abruptly the warrior grabbed Anders’ wrist to stop him. “Mage, I told you to wait!”, Fenris managed between two heavy breaths. “This area is dangerous, it’s foolish to walk away all on your own!”

The mage stared at Fenris’ clawed hand, holding his, then his eyes darted upwards to meet the elf’s gaze with what Fenris interpreted as irritation, surprise and annoyance. Or sadness?

Overcoming his first impulse to let go, Fenris kept Anders locked in a tight grip. “You need to be more careful! If you don’t want to talk with me that’s… fine.” Desperately Fenris struggled for words, which weren’t mean or hurting. “Just don’t run away alone!”

A confusing, tingling sensation spread from his fingers, where his skin touched Anders’, over his palm and slowly radiated into his arm. It made Fenris release the mage at once. 

Anders’ expression was still a bit off, so Fenris couldn’t tell, if the mage had felt the same strange sensation. 

Anders finally forced a lopsided grin. “You’re right… Hawke would have us both killed, if anything happened to one of us because of our bickering. Let’s go find her. I think they must be here somewhere.”


	11. Crumbling and falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'What is wrong with this elf? What is wrong with me?' Anders' internal rant has to make way for priorities. There are lifes at stake. And their small group is working against time.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

_‘Could you just stop beating so fast!’_ Anders implored on his stupid heartbeat to stop from racing but to no avail. Not even Justice’s silent judgement had an influence on the fluttering in Anders’ chest. _‘What in the maker’s name is wrong with me?!’_ It had been odd enough that Fenris came running after him, when Anders had mustered the courage to speak up about cats and embarrassed himself in the process. But that the elf not only shouted loudly in a dangerous environment, to remind him to be careful none the less, but ran and grabbed his hand without letting go… it had left the mage dumbfounded for a second. Or two. Or even more than three. Because all Anders knew was that Fenris hated physical contact. Which sometimes had led to even more bickering at card night when anyone had accidentally bumped into the elf.

Mage and elf were now walking towards the direction of Hawke and Isabela or at least where they should be. And Anders’ head was still spinning. Something was definitely off with Fenris. If he didn’t know better – and he knew, as Justice informed him – the elf had almost acted civil and maybe even caring. For his standards at least. **_‘And he grabbed our hand and the lyrium started singing!’_** Justice’s mind, if the spirit even had a mind of his own, was reeling as much as Anders’ but probably more focused on lyrium and fade, and less on suddenly not so broody elves.

“There you are!” Hawke’s hushed comment brought Anders back from his mental wanderings and into the present. The warrior was standing at the entrance of a mine shaft. “We were about to get you. The ‘treasure’ was nothing but a crate with mining tools. But apart from that failure we found a tunnel that seems to be stable…” She looked over her shoulder with an expression of disbelieve. _‘Glorious’_ , thought Anders, _‘she doesn’t even believe her on words!’_ “Isabela thought she heard something from the inside. She’s scouting ahead.” Hawke looked back at Fenris and Anders and suddenly her eyebrows went up. “Have you been arguing again? You’re all… red.” She sighed and Anders pressed his mouth shut and fixed his gaze on a spot that was neither Hawke nor Fenris. He had blushed. Like a teenager. **_‘You're blushing again, Anders!’_** , commented Justice indignantly. Maker, this day was terrible.

Fenris broke the silence with an annoyed huff. “Isabela should be back by now, shouldn’t she! Maybe we’ll go after...” The pirate chose that moment to exit the tunnel with a deeply concerned look on her face.

“There are some scratching noises from a blocked side tunnel about 200 steps in. They sound weird.” Isabela’s gazed flicked over her companions’ odd complexions, but the situation was too dire to talk about red faces now. “What do you mean by scratching? Animals? Spiders?” Anders’ hold on his staff tightened. He hated spiders. But Isabela shook her head. “No… it sounds more like someone moving the rocks away.” She looked at Hawke. “You think… you think that could be the lost workers?” Their leader had turned a bit pale. “Or whatever is left of them.” Isabela supplied. “Whatever it is, we should check it out…”

Anders’ brows furrowed. “There is still a chance for the workers to be alive. If it truly is them… and not some Darkspawn crawling through that blighted place.” Following his words, he walked towards the entrance. Something to do. Something to think about that was not his own embarrassment. Or Fenris. Or that Isabela and Hawke maybe had their own interpretation for their flushed faces. **_‘Anders!’_** Justice sharp remark flashed through his mind. **_‘There are lives at stake! Concentrate!’_** And his spirit friend was right. He was a healer, he should focus on the matter at hand. With this new-found resolution, he walked past Isabela. “What are we waiting for? Save some workers or be eaten by Hurlocks, don’t tell me you have better plans for today?!”

“That is some remarkable determination, Blondie! But you are right.” And Isabela followed the mage into the tunnel. Judging by the clatter of metal behind them, Anders guessed that Fenris and Hawke did the same.

Only a few steps in and Anders had to light the torches they had brought with them and handed them to his companions. “How far is it?” Hawke had taken her usual leading position. As Isabela had scouted a bit further than the blocked side tunnel, there should be no more need for stealth. The pirate pointed forward. “There, just behind that bend.” The elf let out a low growl which made everyone turn towards him. “What is it Fenris?” Hawke stared at the other warrior. “Did you hear anything?” The elf’s frown deepened and he nodded. “Isabela was right. It’s the workers. I can hear them. They’re trying to move the rocks away. They are coughing. Heavily. Sounds as if there’s not much air left at their side…” Anders listened closely. If the elf was right, and he almost always was in his observations on missions, they needed to hurry if they wanted to get the people out of that tunnel alive. And not carry a bunch of corpses. Justice flared with anger. **_‘That would be unjust, Anders! You have to help them!’_** This time the mage didn’t need the encouragement though. Fenris scowl had sufficed to make him realize that they had to act. Fast.

Within moments they had reached the blocked tunnel, rocks and stones filling up the narrow entrance from bottom to top. A steady but slow sound of rocks being dragged away over the stone floor could be heard through the massive barrier. By now it was loud enough even for Hawke’s and Anders’ untrained ears. “Good!”, said the warrior. “Let’s do this!” Hawke turned to Anders with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. “You don’t by any chance have a spell to implode this shit?” But the mage shook his head. “I don’t! And even if I had, it might induce the tunnel to collapse entirely if the rocks are removed too suddenly…” At that Hawke let out a sigh and placed her torch into a holder at the opposite wall. “Good old handiwork it is then!” She quickly removed her gauntlets and started to drag the rocks away from the entrance. One by one.

Isabela and Fenris did the same. The elf’s sword leaned against the wall beside the blocked entrance and Anders placed his staff next to it. As the mage turned to join his companions in removing the boulders, he earned a quizzical look from Fenris. “You… actually help?” After a short shock second, Anders replied with dry laughter. “What? Are you surprised the mage can actually do something without magic? Let alone lift heavy objects?” He huffed as he took up a large stone and carried it over to the other side. “I bet I could even lift you, armour or not!” 

The rock Fenris had been holding clattered back to the ground and the elf simply stared at Anders. Who acted as if nothing had happened and continued to remove rocks from the entrance with Hawke and Isabela. The latter observed the scene with a quirked eyebrow and a slight grin. Whatever was going on in Fenris’ mind, he didn’t say anything. After a few seconds, he took the rock again and continued to work alongside the others.

The silence stretched and filled more and more with panting and heavy breathing. After some time, the stones seemed to get heavier and heavier, but none of them wanted to take a break. Not now. The sounds inside the tunnel had changed. There were now hushed whispers, mixed with the scratching of stones over bare rock. An excitement was obvious in their tone and Anders could almost feel the hope of the trapped people radiate through the barricade. Hope. That gave Justice an unexpected boost and without warning Anders could feel the spirit’s power flow through him. He lifted the rocks with a lot more ease and quicker pace than his companions now. Although Anders’ joy about that was dimmed a little as he saw the apparent unease in Fenris’ face. ‘The elf should be glad we are more efficient now!’ mumbled Justice, but even the spirit didn’t seem unbothered by making one of their companions so visibly uncomfortable.

The blockade of stones between the main and the side tunnel got thinner and thinner. The first gaps were visible. As they were big enough to look through, Hawke stepped forth and addressed the people behind the barricade. “Everything will be alright. We are here to help! As soon as the gap is big enough, you should come through one by one. No panic. We have a healer with us. Everyone will be attended to.”

It was a never-ending miracle to Anders how Hawke managed to be so calm in face of danger. But then again, maybe that was what he sounded like to his patients? He couldn’t tell. His arms were getting heavier by the minute and even with Justice’s support there were still a bunch of rocks that had to be removed.

Fenris was completely fixated on the task. Running back and forth between the blocked entrance and the pile of boulders the companions had erected further down the main tunnel. His face a determined mask.

More stones were removed. Hawke and Anders started to throw wary glances at the ceiling above. _‘Andraste’s tits, please hold out a little longer!’_

Isabela sat next to the growing pile of removed rocks, panting heavily. She was a sturdy woman, but this amount of heavy physical work was too much. At Anders’ glance the pirate attempted to stand up, but he gestured her to stay put. “Give yourself some rest. We need your strength if we get into an assault on the way back to Kirkwall!” Anders gave her a reassuring smile and turned back to the entrance. Isabela seemed extremely grateful for a longer pause.

The gap was big enough for a person now and Fenris was waving through the small entrance for the first person to come. Hawke moved to assist the elf and together they got the first worker to their tunnel. This routine continued. While Hawke led them away from the blockade and to Anders who was waiting to quickly check on everyone, Fenris helped person after person get through the gap. The rocks around the small entrance were moving slightly but that only fuelled Fenris’ resolve. The group of people got larger, Isabela led the first ones out of the cave. And then it happened.

When Fenris was about to drag the last three people out of the side tunnel the stone ceiling above them suddenly cracked. There was barely time to react, let alone blink.

Hawke yelled for everyone to get away from the shower of stone and dirt. The workers that were still in the tunnel stumbled for the exit. Fenris shoved the person next to him harshly out of the way of the falling rocks. And Anders stood there and for a second felt as if everything around him happened in slow motion. Then he instinctively moved into action. Afterwards he wasn’t even sure if it was him or Justice or both, he just knew that there had only been one thought on his mind. _‘Save them! Save him!’_

His hands moved in rash circles and the heavy downfall of rocks stopped in mid-air. A brush of powerful magic pushed the stones back into the air and held them in place. Sweat started to run down Anders forehead as he tried to keep up the concentration to maintain the spell. Whatever he had cast anyway. “GET. AWAY. FROM. THERE. FENRIS!” An angry yell was all he could spit out, while he clearly felt the mana draining from him even faster now because he didn’t have his staff.

The elf didn’t need the encouragement. With one swift move, he grabbed the remaining two people close to him and dragged them away from the collapsing ceiling. Seconds after the stunned workers and the heavily panting elf had left the danger zone, rocks and earth came crashing down on the entrance to the side tunnel, blocking it completely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and her band of misfits should not discount the dangers of instable tunnels. There are definitely more Dragons and Demons and Spiders out there, but glowelf and I agreed that a crumbling ceiling is just as dangerous.  
> Beware the next chapters might be a bit more emotionally dramatic ;)  
> Also thanks to everyone who stayed so far! We really appreciate your kodus and comments a lot! <3


	12. Deadly stubbornness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a collapsing tunnel above him and the threat of lurking creeps everywhere, Fenris´ only concern is to get everyone home safely. But who is going to save him from his own stubbornness?
> 
> (by glowelf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here finally is the next chapter you´ve all been aching for!  
> Thanks for your lovely comments, it´s great to see you´re just as much into our story as we are! Enjoy!

_‘Ouch!’_

Fenris exhaled sharply. He had tried to shift his right arm only slightly, but even the tiniest movement sent a wave of mind-numbing pain through him. He pressed said arm closer to his chest, which made him gasp. 

_‘Shut it! You have endured far worse, Fenris!’_ He reminded himself. 

In the collapsing tunnel one of the falling rocks had hit his right shoulder. With all the workers around him there had been no time to even examine the damage. All Fenris had been thinking of were the lives of the people. _‘They need to be saved!’_

After getting out of the dangerous shaft, their group had only hesitated as long as absolutely necessary, before hurrying back towards Kirkwall. The sun was already traveling towards the west anyway. In the short time they had spent in front of the tunnel entrance, Anders had checked on all the miners, healed the worst – mostly lungs filled with dust, two unconscious people and a blinded man – but even the spirit’s and the mage’s combined forces had their limits. 

The elf did not intend to inform his companions about his injury yet. Everybody was more than consumed with the task ahead of them: bringing the workers home safely. Some of them couldn’t walk properly and others were constantly coughing and very short of breath. Their lives were at stake and all that counted at the moment. _‘So. Get. Yourself. Together!’_

Isabela scouted the path ahead of their no longer small group, while Hawke and Fenris secured the sides of their formation. Anders tended to the injured, his expression calm and determined. 

Every step Fenris took was sending a hot, stinging pulse through his ruined shoulder, which radiated down his spine. He wasn’t even sure if he had the strength to fight, if the need arose. But he would of course try. Or probably rather die trying. 

_‘Fasta vass. Need to stop. Only one more step...’_

Fenris came to a sudden halt. Bright lights were dancing in front of his eyes and he pressed them shut. _‘Kaffas. Whom do you want to fool, Fenris?’_ He asked himself. _‘I’m so fucked up right now.’_ Danarius would have laughed at his weakness…

Carefully he scanned his surroundings. Nobody had witnessed his short stop. Mustering all his strength the elf took another step. And another. Then he was walking again, his movements caught in the unsteady rhythm of his heavy heart beat. 

Despite his pain Fenris noticed how professional the mage was while attending to the ones in need. He supported a tumbling, grey haired bear of a man just in time before he could slip, patted another coughing worker on the back, and provided a third with water, while leading a tall woman, whose eyes had been covered with dust and stone particles, by holding her hand. Fenris was deeply impressed. A fire seemed to burn in Anders. He allowed himself no break, refused to drink much – “The workers need it, I’m fine!” – and still managed to be friendly and caring. 

For a short moment Anders looked up from his current patient and their gazes accidentally met. The warm smile the mage had used to calm down the man walking beside him morphed into a questioning, worried expression. Fenris forced himself to turn around, before his face or posture could give him away. 

He had wanted to ask Anders to take a quick look on his shoulder, but the mage was too busy aiding the weakened miners already… And Fenris had learned to supress his pain. _‘I have been trained to be in complete control of this body. I can take it.’_ Or at least he wanted to believe that until they had entered Kirkwall. 

Fenris needed no medical skills to tell that the hot sensation pulsing through his shoulder probably wasn’t the best sign. The numb feeling in his right arm didn’t improve this impression.   
Slowly he lowered his head to glimpse at the wound. _‘KAFFAS!!!’_ Fenris pressed his left hand on his mouth. He had almost cried out in pain. _‘Well shit.’_ His attempt had resulted in a sharp, stinging reaction of his body: Yes. Too bad. His head was still connected with that hurting mess. 

So, it was a bad injury. Ha. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. Hastily he blinked away his tears. It really did hurt. 

Again, he wondered if he should ask Anders for help. And again, he opted for silent suffering. If the healer found anything to his disliking – and by now it was quite apparent that exactly this would be the case – he would demand Hawke to stop and wait until the injury was treated. Fenris had decided that they couldn’t risk any delay, at least not for him. And especially not for him bothered with a mere trifle. But it hurt... 

He clenched his teeth and forced his legs to move on.

“Are you alright?” Hawke suddenly stood beside him. It took Fenris some time to focus, then he nodded once. “I think we need to take a short break. Kirkwall isn’t far anymore, but most of the workers are exhausted already. If there is a fight, we need to separate it from the group.”

“Sure…”

Fenris couldn’t keep standing and so he let himself plump down to the ground. _‘Ouch!’_ He inhaled sharply. _‘Bad idea.’_ The muscles in his back and neck were tensing up more and more by the minute, forming a solid complex of… pain. _‘We need to get to Kirkwall! I cannot fail the others now!’_

After a few short moments Hawke said “Let’s go, everybody!” and Fenris clenched his teeth and got up again. He did notice the small nervous glances Hawke threw to the sides. She was deeply concerned. As was everybody of their party.

Fenris slogged along and tried to obscure his distress. With a grim expression, he forced himself forward, while fighting down the pain and the lyrium as well, which was about to activate against his will. He knew he was ignoring every warning signal of his body and he would pay for it later. _‘But not yet!’_

It was a wonder. A remarkable coincident. Isabela’s extremely good rogue skills. Or the maker’s will himself. No matter why or how, they reached Kirkwall without any incidents or fights and Fenris was more than thankful for it. His vision was all blurry and he let himself be dragged along through the city by their group. Fenris was so relieved that everyone was save, he actually considered to lay down on the floor right where he stood, since his legs wouldn’t carry him any further. 

_‘A good night’s sleep and I will be fine again... Certainly. That will work. Great plan.’_

“Fenris?”

The elf shook his head slightly, to get rid of the dancing lights and focus on his actual surroundings. _‘Oh.’_ They had somehow ended up in Anders’ clinic. 

“Thedas to Fenris, this is your favourite healer speaking, are you still there?” Anders was flicking his fingers to catch Fenris’ attention. The elf blushed and hid his emotions behind a frown as usual.

“I haven’t checked on you yet. Are you okay? Hawke and Isabela are fine, but you seem to be a bit… off.” Anders took a few steps towards him, their gazes locked onto each other’s. “What’s wrong?”, probed the mage and broke their eye contact. “And why are you crossing your arms in front of your chest in that weird angle?”

 _‘Kaffas.’_ Fenris pondered his options. There was no need to pretend he was fine any longer, right? If he admitted he was kind of hurt now, it didn’t matter. His companions hadn’t ever mocked him for being weak. They wouldn’t be mean or start judging him now, right? And if the nagging pain vanished it would be really great... Maybe he could get himself a health potion from Anders. Or some bandages. The mage seemed to be exhausted, too, and Fenris didn’t want to demand anything from him. 

He could handle things himself. As he had always done. Firstly he would head home. Secondly he would drink some wine, and then some more, to numb himself. And thirdly he would fall asleep. Great plan.


	13. Mission Impossible Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders has his own struggles on the way back to Kirkwall.  
> And these don't end when they are finally back in his clinic and Fenris declares: "I'm leaving..."
> 
> (by glowelf and kittenmage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! The following three chapters are containing both Anders' AND Fenris' points of view. That means you won't miss any trails of thoughts, reactions or feelings, yay! To avoid any confusion - besides the mesmerizing content ;) - we have labelled the seperate parts. Enjoy!

(Anders’ POV)

The way back to Kirkwall had been the most exhausting few hours Anders had spent in the Free Marches. The sinking sun and the potential threat of bandits or slavers or other unpleasant surprises had hurried their group along. There had barely been any time to check on every worker, heal the worst injuries, so everyone would be able to head back to Kirkwall, and actually move himself forward. Without Justice, Anders was sure that he would have collapsed inside the tunnel. Directly after he had stopped the rocks from crushing Fenris and the two workers, nausea had hit him hard, his mana was all but gone and yet no one had been healed yet.

While walking back to Kirkwall, stabilizing people where he could and fighting down his impulse to fall asleep then and there, he had observed Fenris. The elf had barely looked at him for a second after his almost demise. And although Anders was sure he must have at least gotten a scratch from some of the stones that had rained on him, Fenris hadn’t said a word to him. The healer had seen the crouched posture and slow walking pattern. His hands, and to his surprise Justice, had been itching to just send a healing spell over to the elf whenever his gaze fell on him. But every time some other person had coughed, or started to fall. _‘Or I was too afraid to heal him against his will…’_ Anders reluctantly admitted to himself. This was probably the strongest reason.

Now he was standing in his clinic, a few workers had found a place on the cots and were attended to with bandages and health potions. They would need further attention in the morning. Most others had been overjoyed to get home to their families, even despite their injuries. Hawke and Isabela had left. Each guiding one of the workers who were too weak to go by themselves, but had resisted Anders imploring them to stay at his clinic.

Which only left Fenris, whose face was almost as white as milk, his arm pressed closely to his chest in a definitely unhealthy angle, swaying back and forth. His glassy eyes were directed at Anders, though he wasn’t sure if Fenris actually realized that he was there.

“Fenris?” The mage took a careful step in Fenris direction. His mana was still low from constantly healing people all the way home, so he sincerely hoped, that Fenris wasn’t as badly injured as it seemed. The elf reacted with a weird flitting of eyes – was he rapidly thinking of something? – and a nod towards the door. “I’m… leaving…” His voice was barely a coarse whisper, the swaying got worse as Fenris took the first step towards the exit and Anders darted forth. ‘What in the Maker’s name does he think he’s doing?!’ The mage took a hold of Fenris’ arms to keep him in place which earned him a hiss of pain. Immense pain. ‘How did I not see that it was that bad?’ 

“Andraste’s tits, Fenris, you aren’t going anywhere!!” He was probably yelling louder than he needed to, but Anders was angry. 

Angry at himself for not scanning the elf for injuries right after the ceiling had almost collapsed on top of him! Angry at his low mana and inability to do any real healing magic! And angry at the foolish, stubborn elf, who had walked all the way from the Bone Pit to Kirkwall with a severe trauma in his upper body! 

Anders suspected that Fenris probably didn’t want to bother him with his “trifle of a bruise” – he could almost hear the snarling voice of the elf inside his head – but this didn’t change the fact that the elf in question was now flinching with pain. Seemingly unable to move in any degree.

 

(Fenris’ POV)

“Fenris?”

The mage had addressed him again and Fenris blinked. He had almost forgotten that he was still standing in Anders’ clinic. With all the adrenaline gone and his task fulfilled, the pain had suddenly worsened and left him in a shock like status. 

_‘Need. To. Rest.’_ Fenris composure started to crumble. But the mage looked very tired himself. 

For one last time Fenris pondered his options – bearing in mind that he would have to walk all the way up to Hightown alone after sundown if he decided to go – and went for: “I’m… leaving…” He was surprised how drained his own voice sounded. His world was spinning, yet Fenris dared to take a step. And failed. 

There were white lights exploding in front of his eyes and Fenris was sure that this had nothing to do with any magic. Everything seemed to slow down, as Fenris realized that he was going to fall. His chest bend forwards and he could only hope to fall onto his left side. Then two strong hands took a hold of his arms and kept him from falling. _‘Anders.’_

The touch, or rather the slight shift of the angle Fenris was holding his right arm in, triggered a hot stinging and utterly overwhelming sensation, that shot from his shoulder into his neck, arm and back. Unable to supress the pain any longer, Fenris hissed. There were more bright lights dancing in front of him now, but he barely noticed them. _‘Venhedis. It. Hurts.’_

“Andraste’s tits, Fenris, you aren’t going anywhere!!”, yelled the mage. He sounded very angry and Fenris was too weak to protest. Right now, he’d rather lie down and coil himself up into a whimpering bundle on the floor. 

 

(Anders POV)

A few minutes later, Fenris – or rather the mumbling, hissing and flinching mess that was supposed to be the elf – was placed in Anders’ own bed. He had reasoned, that even when hurt, or especially then, Fenris was still Fenris, and his privacy was probably the one thing he valued the most. As Anders made Fenris drink a health potion, so he could remove the armour without giving the elf too much pain, he wondered how he had even managed to carry him to his small chamber without falling over himself. 

Fenris was impossibly pale, the white lyrium barely a contrast to his skin anymore. His eyes were closed, but Anders could see them flitting restlessly beneath the eye lids. _‘Andraste’s knickerweasle’s! I have to see the damage! Now!’_

Carefully Anders started to remove the armour. First the breastplate, then the gauntlets. As he came to the shoulder pieces, Fenris’ left hand weakly swayed through the air, as if to push him away. Anders had been surprised at how long Fenris hadn’t commented on his actions, so the half-hearted attempt at stopping him made him even more concerned. If the elf didn’t even have the energy to protest, it must be bad indeed. The mage reached for another health potion, one of those he usually only used when he healed injuries that non-mage healers would solve with surgeries. Reluctantly the elf swallowed. Anders’ gut clenched. The elf’s unwillingness to accept help of any kind was so obstinate and silly. And weirdly endearing. **_‘Anders!!’_** Justice mentally poked him and Anders turned is focus back on removing the shoulder armour.

Once done, the mage let out a shocked hiss himself. Fenris’ right shoulder and upper arm where dark blue, violet and green, swollen and bruised. It made Anders sick to see one of his friends injured so badly. _‘If only I had been faster! That must have been one of the falling rocks... If only I had taken the time to examine him at least briefly!’_ Anders frowned in anger. Mostly at himself.


	14. Mission Impossible Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to help the elf is getting out of hand. (Pun intended)
> 
> (by glowelf and kittenmage)

(Fenris POV)

_‘Kaffas.’_

_‘It. Hurts. Badly.’_ All Fenris could think of was… PAIN!

Being only half-conscious he had let himself be manoeuvred somewhere by Anders – at least it was soft – and didn’t protest as a health potion was poured down his throat. Well, it didn’t help much but at least it numbed the. Blasted. PAIN.

Fenris felt cold and hot at the same time, which fore he was shivering. With quick and well-coordinated movements Anders started to remove his armour and Fenris could do nothing but lie still and clench his teeth. Because the PAIN was craving all his attention. And it got even worse, as the mage started to get rid of his shoulder pieces. Fenris was well aware that he only wanted to help, but as Anders opened the first strap of the metal plate Fenris wanted nothing more than to punch him and immediately bolt out of the clinic, because IT HURT!!!

His attempt of stopping the healer – he only managed to wave his left hand weakly – was ignored. Instead another potion was placed at his lips. Though being thoroughly helpless and on the edge of despair, since Fenris couldn’t bear the pain much longer without passing out, he thought: “Don’t waste all those potions on me! Save them for others in need! Save them for yourself!” But Anders left him no choice. It was either spilling or swallowing it.

 

(Anders’ POV)

It was no use! Fenris already had taken two health potions, and a very strong one at that, but still seemed as much in pain as before. Anders' first magical examination of Fenris’ body confirmed his worst suspicions. His right shoulder had probably suffered under the impact of a bigger stone, the bones and muscles were crunched and fractured and Anders wondered how Fenris had been able to stand, let alone walk hours without fainting. He couldn’t see any blood or open wound apart from a small cut on Fenris forehead, but internal bleeding was still possible and quite likely. 

Some stray tears of worry and anger ran down Anders’ cheek. _‘This blasted, blighted arse! If we would have gotten in a fight, he would have died faster than the exhausted workers!’_ And neither Hawke, nor Isabela, nor he would have known until too late, that their warrior was in no state fit to fight. “Damnit Fenris, stay awake! You can’t pass out before I know you’ll wake up again!” The healer’s hands hovered over the smashed shoulder and up to the head. He wanted to heal at least the small injury there, as he noticed the tension and strain of a concussion. _‘Great! Crashed bones and a blow to the head!’_ In a case as severe as this, Anders thought about using even another potion. He’d never seen after effects of too much health potion after all and now was not the time to worry about that. Fenris might die if he didn’t interfere. Or at least suffer from lasting damage. **_‘Too bad the lyrium isn’t singing any more. You need a potion yourself!’_** Justice hovered inside Anders’ thoughts much like a mother hen. He was always present when Anders healed people, but this new degree of concern perplexed Anders. A bit.

“Stay where you are!”, said the healer and stood up. Anders went to fetch another health potion from the shelf and got a lyrium potion out from his desk. As he had expected Fenris shifted uncomfortably, though Anders couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain or because he tried to get up despite his comment. _‘He’s like a stubborn child… or a grumpy kitten…’_

He downed the lyrium potion in one go and returned to Fenris’ side. “Here!” Anders lifted the potion bottle to Fenris' lips. “Drink! But …”, his other hand brushed away the hair that clung to Fenris’ face, “…if you get a feeling of throwing up just give me a little sign. Nod. Snarl. Curse. Whatever you’re capable of. Okay?” The mage tried to smile reassuringly.

 

(Fenris’ POV)

P-A-I-N. One word, one euphemism of the way Fenris felt right now. 

He exhaled sharply as Anders used what was left of his magic to examine the damage. Or he thought he had done so. No sound escaped his throat. His mind was adrift, his body becoming a cage of cold, stinging, pulsating, radiating pain. It was swallowing the elf whole and he had no more energy left to fight it. Though he was starting to feel kind of… calm. 

“Damnit Fenris, stay awake! You can’t pass out before I know you’ll wake up again!”

Fenris knew he was about to lose consciousness, but when he heard Anders’ voice, partly angry, partly afraid, he decided to hang on. Suddenly there was a cold sensation on his forehead. It took Fenris a moment to realize it was the absence of Anders’ hands. The sentence “Stay where you are!” started to make sense now. 

The mage was gone. 

Fenris was left alone with his aching body. Desperately he tried to reach out, to get a hold of Anders, to feel his comforting touch – anything really – despite the pain. Of course he couldn’t get up, or even raise his chest. 

_‘Anders…’_

Fortunately the mage returned straightaway. “Here!”, he said and Fenris wondered if Anders’ voice had ever sounded so worried. Another potion bottle was pressed against his lips. Fenris shuddered. 

_‘Not another potion!’_ , he protested silently. 

A few hair strands were gently moved out of his face. _‘Why?’_ His vision was blurry, yet he could make out Anders’ face. 

“Drink! But if you get a feeling of throwing up just give me a little sign. Nod. Snarl. Curse. Whatever you’re capable of. Okay?” 

The mage’s words didn’t really reach Fenris anymore, but his smile did. 

As the effect of the health potion kicked in several minutes later the elf sighed happily. The pain was still there, but reduced to a minimum that Fenris could presumably handle. He felt like he had been wrapped up in cotton wool. He even was feeling… warm. Kind of funny. A tickling in his ears made him open his eyes slowly. 

“Mage?” Anders was gaping at him. His expression was a mixture of concern and relief. The healer seemed ready to support Fenris with the vomiting, the elf however had something entirely different in mind. “I… Your hand…”

Why he got a hold of Anders’ hand was beyond him, anyway Fenris kept it locked in his left.  
“Your hands… feel good!”, he declared and smiled sheepishly.

 

(Anders’ POV)

 _‘Andrate’s arse, that concussion is worse than I thought!’_ Anders’ left hand moved up to Fenris' forehead again, his right locked in Fenris' grip. _‘How can he even be that strong in his condition?!’_ A wave of soft healing magic sprung from his fingers and Anders closed his eyes as he searched for the head injury he was sure he had missed earlier. But he found none. The concussion seemed severe but not deadly and was eased slightly by the inpouring magic. So why was Fenris behaving so oddly all of a sudden?

 ** _‘Have you ever used that many health potions on elves? Maybe they react differently to elfroot than humans?’_** Justice was at a loss, but the spirit’s remark at least gave Anders a possible explanation. Although no solution on how to fix this.

“It’s charming that you like my hands so much Fenris, but I need them. For healing you.” The mage nodded at the ugly damage that seemed to swell up even more now that the elf was finally lying down without moving about. It was surreal that he needed to remind Fenris of his injury when moments earlier the look in Fenris' eyes spoke of nothing but extreme pain. “So, may I get my hand back please?” Anders’ patience was thin. Or maybe it was his capability to handle elves who were decidedly too nice. Or simply his own fatigue claiming his attention.

With as little force as he dared to use, Anders tried to free his hand from Fenris. “Healing! Magic! Now Fenris!” Seriously. What was wrong with the elf? Anders would have sworn that Fenris gently brushed his thumb over his hand. **_‘Hmmm, the lyrium elf does exactly that!’_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUSTICE! ;)


	15. Mission Impossible Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing Fenris gets more and more confusing by the minute. And whatever is happening between mage and elf, is totally beyond them.
> 
> (by glowelf and kittenmage)

(Fenris’ POV)

“It’s charming that you like my hands so much Fenris, but I need them. For healing you.”  
_‘Whatever’_ , thought Fenris and studied the mage’s impression, which grew more and more annoyed by the second. 

The pain was nothing more than a mere background noise, his right shoulder and arm had gone completely numb and Fenris didn’t bother about that. It appeared kind of strange to him, that he had trouble focusing and he was feeling comfortable and warm all of a sudden. But, nevermind, as long as he wouldn’t let go off the hand he was holding – Anders’ hand – the pain would not return and he would be fine. It was only logical.

“So, may I get my hand back please?” 

Fenris wondered why Anders wanted to remove his hand. The suffering would start again. _‘Why does he want to… make me… suffer?’_ , a puzzled elf asked himself. 

“Healing! Magic! Now Fenris!”

 _‘I’m fine… Why the healing magic?’_ , the elf thought, _‘If he needs his hand, perhaps it will… suffice… if he stays… close by… Yes. Close. That’s it. Piece of cake. Ha.’_

Carefully Fenris raised his chest – it did work, yet the movement sent his world spinning – and let go off the hand. Then he slung his arm around Anders’ waist and rested his head against the mage. “Please don’t leave me…”

Like his vision his emotions seemed to be trapped in a rollercoaster and Fenris started to feel afraid, even sad. “And please don’t make the pain come back!”, he whimpered and snuggled into the mage. The thought of being left alone now seemed as unbearable to Fenris, as the pain had been.

His emotions took another loop and he got utterly confused. _‘Kaffas, what’s wrong with me???’_ Fenris felt terribly sick all of a sudden. 

 

(Anders’ POV)

To say that Anders’ was dumbstruck was a tremendous understatement. His anger about his trapped hand had vanished instantly as Fenris let go of it and wrapped himself around the mage instead. The whispered comments of not leaving him and keeping the pain away only made it worse.

 _‘Maker… Shit!! What even…’_ Anders’ gaze dropped down to the elf’s face, that was half pressed into Anders’ side. He looked so fragile. Whatever words Anders had ever used to describe Fenris before that day and after, “fragile” definitely wasn’t one of them. And it shouldn’t be!

So, his instincts as a healer won against the mess of confusion and emotions that turned his chest upside down and Anders gently moved his hands over Fenris’ injury. The lyrium potion would have to do its job! The mage at least wanted to stabilize the wound, set the fractured bones back in place and maybe even remove the concussion. And nausea. Fenris’ face had taken a sickly green hue. Maybe the elf really was drunk on health potions? Before Anders continued to work on the smashed shoulder – the main fracture being already mended –, he placed his right hand on Fenris’ stomach. Soothing soft blue waves found their way into Fenris body. “Didn’t I tell you to warn me, once you got sick?” Despite his reproach, the mage smiled. The sickness at least was a logical reaction to the injury. The snuggling and sudden closeness, though, definitely weren’t.

After a few moments during which Anders had observed Fenris’ face go from greenish white back to a healthier colour, the healer’s spells and fading concentration turned back to the shoulder. Barely interrupted by the elf. Or his own selfish, crazy thoughts. _‘If only Fenris would always be as peaceful… I wouldn’t mind him being this close.’_

(Fenris’ POV)

“Didn’t I tell you to warn me, once you got sick?” Fenris recognised the sound of Anders’ voice and reacted with a weak “Hmmm…” His sickness passed. His pain slowly vanished. Anders’ soothing healing magic was all around him now. It felt so warm and snuggling into Anders felt… good.

Fenris sighed. His eyes closed, he simply leaned against the mage and let himself be carried away by the blue waves of energy which gently cursed through his body. 

There was a small part of him that still wanted to protest and leave the clinic, to get away from the ‘abomination’. Because it was dangerous to trust – really trust – anybody, especially a mage, and Anders certainly was a… temptation to break that number one rule, which said _‘Never let anyone get too close to you, Fenris!’_. 

Only Fenris didn’t care at that moment. It felt way too good to be close to someone and have them at one’s side. To have someone who cared. To have Anders. 

Despite his fading consciousness – thanks to the healer he was drifting into a peaceful slumber – deep down Fenris knew he would have to figure that out. Later. 

 

(Anders’ POV)

Anders could feel Fenris’ breathing even out. The elf must have fallen asleep. Good. That gave Anders the opportunity to shortly interrupt the steady flow of healing magic and remove Fenris’ arm from around his waist, so he could place the elf back on the pillow. The healer needed more space to move and less physical contact could only help his concentration. Because the warm body next to him was a huge temptation to just lie down and fall asleep himself. _‘Andraste’s tits, what would Isabela say if she saw this?!’_ The random and disturbing thought brought Anders out of his musings and back to his patient.

His patient. His companion. Not… something else.

Half an hour of healing, mending and bandaging later, Anders felt completely drained. Despite his earlier conviction to just heal the necessary parts, so Fenris wouldn’t wake up screaming or with broken bones piercing internal organs when the elf moved, Anders had continued healing until every bone was back in its place. Until the fractures were gone. Until the concussion barely enough to cause a faint headache. And until the crushed shoulder looked like a shoulder again. Apart from its colour. Fenris would have to deal with it for at least one or two weeks to come. If he agreed to be healed every day by Anders. The mage sighed. That promised to be two weeks of arguing… a lot. 

Anders tied the last knot on the bandages. _‘I have to sleep…now… and don’t even dare to think of writing the manifesto now, Justice!’_ The mage snarled at himself. Slowly he slouched out of his tiny room, in passing draping the discarded blanket over the slumbering elf and let himself fall down on a random cot. The workers at the other side of the room were fast asleep. And with any luck Anders would be soon, too.

**_‘Why don’t you sleep in your own bed?’_ **

Anders’ eyes opened wide and he groaned. Now was definitely not the time at which he wanted to explain that aspect of relationships to Justice. Definitely. Not.


	16. To let the cat out of the bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris finally awakes from his slumber. The few memories that immediately return to him are not exactly unproblematic.
> 
> (By glowelf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows our regular pattern and is again exclusively from Fenris' POV.

The sun was up already when Fenris woke from a deep slumber. He knew that something was strange – beginning with the warm bed he was lying in – even before he had opened his eyes. _‘I didn’t make it home last night?’_

As he slowly opened his eyes and looked around the memories hit him like a mallet. Most of the time he had spent in the clinic was nothing but a mere blur and the few things that sprung to mind were far from encouraging. 

Fenris was actually worried about his shoulder and arm. Carefully he tried to move the fingers of his right hand and, as they bend without any delay or pain, he let his wrist circle. That was ok, too. The rest of his arm and shoulder was wrapped up in bandages, keeping his arm fixed in a flexed position. _‘This probably should stay that way.’_

Despite a slight headache Fenris raised his chest – it hurt! – and lifted his legs out of the bed. He listened. Outside the small chamber there were hushed voices to be heard. It seemed to be a normal day at the clinic with only few patients. 

_‘Time to leave.’_ Fenris sighed. He already knew that Anders would not let him go without a huge discussion. _‘Let’s get this over with…’_

With a grunt he got up and the pain in his shoulder returned immediately. In comparison to the day before he could ignore it however and moved on. 

He found his tunic, armour and sword, neatly arranged at the end of the bed. Since Fenris had no desire to walk around in his underclothes, he tried to get the tunic over his head using only his left arm, which didn’t work. As he tried to use his right arm, despite better knowledge, a sharp sting reminded him, that he was not ok yet. So not ok. 

Still hissing in pain, Fenris left the small chamber, wearing only his trousers. 

In the main chamber, there wasn’t much going on. Three cots were taken by far too curious workers, which looked up to watch Fenris. Irritated the elf took in that they were smiling at him. _‘Whatever’s wrong with them…’_

Fenris found Anders cooking some potion in a big pot. The mage hadn’t noticed him yet, so Fenris could examine the sparse room. The desk was filled with empty glasses and parchment pages, partly empty, partly filled with Anders’ small handwriting. Seeing the big red ball of yarn on one of the shelves, Fenris couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. 

“You did keep the blasted wool?!”

Anders turned around with a shocked expression. And he blushed, which was all too apparent against his unhealthily pale skin. _‘Anders looks exhausted and sick…’_

“Fenris… You should not be up!” The mage took a few steps towards his unwilling patient and waited for the inevitable discussion. 

“Venhedis…”, was all Fenris got out. Another part of his memories had just returned to him. Holding Anders’ hands. Snuggling into his side. Fenris felt how his ears and cheeks went hot and most likely turned signal red. “Venhedis”, he repeated dumbstruck. Then: “D-Did you drug me?” 

“I had to use quite a lot of health potions on you, since you didn’t tell me you were hurt that badly straight away! You might have suffered from some weird side effects…” The elf opened and closed his mouth several times. _‘Weird side effects? What an understatement!’_

“I guess it makes no sense to tell you how foolish your behaviour has been! You were in no state to fight, you could have been killed and I would not have been able to help you!”, ranted the mage and reopened the door to his private chamber.   
“For the Maker’s sake, Fenris, lie down again. Please. You’re still injured, I’m tired and I don’t want to argue with you in front of my patients…”, Anders added, his voice suddenly strained. He sounded really worried, too. 

Though feeling deeply embarrassed for what he had done the other night – even if being under the influence of some bloody health potions – Fenris would have perhaps listened to the mage for once. Only he couldn’t. And he couldn’t explain it to Anders either. Because this was about the cat. He had been away for quite a while now, and he wanted to check on Snow, see that she was doing ok with the rats in his cellar, feed her and stroke her fur. 

Fenris didn’t move and Anders’ expression changed into an exhausted and very annoyed grimace. “I need to leave”, Fenris said with determination. He wasn’t happy about it though, and walking all the way up to Hightown would be no fun either… 

“Look, I know you think you can take it and get along all on your own, but if you don’t let me see to your shoulder you will likely suffer lasting damage…”

“You don’t understand, mage”, insisted Fenris. “I have to go!” Anders had crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why do you always have to be so stubborn?!”

“This is not about me!”, exclaimed the elf, trying to stay as calm as possible and failing. “Kaffas, it’s no use keeping this from you anyway!” Nervously he paced through the small clinic, before he could reveal his secret. _‘How can I put this? I will look like an idiot…’_ Finally he turned to Anders and locked his gaze on the mage’s chest, being unable to actually face him. And he was blushing again. _‘What is wrong with me?! Must be the pain and confusion from the injury and potions. Certainly.’_

“Er, I... I’ve done it. Kaffas, mage. I bought a cat”, he babbled. “For. You. To say sorry. And she is living at my mansion right now. And she needs to be seen to.” When he dared to look up, Anders’ face had lost all traces of annoyance.


	17. "You bought a cat?!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if an injured Fenris wasn't enough, the new information about the cat makes matters even more complicated.  
> Instead of yelling, though, Anders manages to talk with the elf. For now.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

“I bought a cat!”

As Fenris’ words seeped through to Anders’ consciousness, he froze. “You… you did what?” His voice had lost all his anger and worry and was replaced by a worry of a different kind. Had the health potion overdose – he was now sure that it had been one – damaged some vital part of Fenris’ brain, that made him belief he had bought a cat? For Anders.

The earnest look in Fenris’ eyes made him question that option instantly. He had seen memory loss and confusion. More often than he would have liked to. And normally induced by something entirely different and more violent than a health potion. But despite the obvious traces of pain, the elf’s gaze was clear and not clouded by anything. Still. Anders couldn’t simply believe that Fenris would ever do such a thing. Not for him at least.

Before Anders could make up his mind on how to react to this strange revelation, Justice claimed his share of the conversation. **_‘The elf’s getting pale. You wanted to put him into your bed again.’_** Anders almost flinched at that. Mostly the wording. But at least arguing with Fenris over his health was easier than accepting the fact that the elf had bought him a cat. 

A cat. _'Maker’s breath, I have to be dead!’_

With a shrug of his head, Anders walked up to Fenris. “If you’re not going to sit down soon, you’ll faint. Or vomit. And I don’t care much for puke on my floor.” He tried to smile, a smile that always worked on Hawke or his other patients. Fenris seemed to be confused by it. The elf stumbled back, though definitely not as elegant as he himself was used to. “You don’t seem to get it! There is a cat in my mansion!” The elf almost yelled and Anders was a bit taken aback by it. He hadn’t realized how much the cat or its wellbeing meant to Fenris. _‘He would risk his own health for a cat? But isn’t the kitten supposed to be a present for me, why should he bother so much?’_ Anders was sure that Fenris didn’t care that much about him. So, why go through all this trouble to buy a cat for Anders as a means of saying sorry. If anything Fenris owed Isabela an apolo… Something inside Anders’ mind clicked. Someone must have set Fenris up to this. And regarding her latest endeavours and warning towards Anders, that she wouldn’t give up, Anders was sure that that someone was Isabela. He sighed. Then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Calm. He needed to be calm.

“Okay. Please listen, Fenris. Firstly, you’re going to sit down.” He pointed towards his chamber and the bed within. “Secondly, we’ll talk this through. There is a solution for this and we’ll find it. But only if you stop ruining yourself and my healing efforts by walking around!” Anders fixed his gaze on the elf in front of him. “Can we agree on this? For now?” he held out his hands, if Fenris wanted someone to support him. But of course, the elf discarded the offer. “Fine! Only this time, mage!” Fenris walked back towards the bed and lowered himself slowly. The way he hunched his shoulders and hissed when he made the mistake to move in the wrong direction, pained Anders. At the same time, he was relieved beyond reason. Yesterday the elf’s chances of moving around, or even consciously talking were definitely small. _‘I can’t believe I am happy, that he yells at me again!’_ But Anders was. In a way.

“Call if you need anything. Lirene, my helper, should arrive soon, so you can also speak to her.” Anders had turned towards his other three patients, that apparently had followed the odd exchange between mage and elf from their corner of the room. They were smiling. Weakly, but smiling. The mage wasn’t sure if he should be happy they were all well enough to do so, or fear that his quarrel with Fenris might be the talk of Darktown later. Before that moment, Anders had avoided to confront Fenris in front of his patients. For his own sake, because he hated to fight with someone. And for Fenris’ sake. Because whatever Anders’ opinion of him had been, that shouldn’t influence others.

Once Anders entered his small chamber and closed the door behind him, he noticed that Fenris looked even more miserable than moments earlier. “Do you want some tea?” He reasoned that Fenris wouldn’t accept another health potion for a while. At least judging by his shocked face and accusation that Anders had drugged him. The worst part about that was, that Anders wasn’t so sure about the drugging himself. And the fact that he hadn’t really minded the cuddly elf from the night before, made him blush. _‘I am not professional and a despicable arse!’_ To his surprise, Justice mentally shook his head. **_‘No! You wanted to help and save him. You are a good healer.’_** Anders smiled involuntarily. That sudden smile had a similar effect as the last one on Fenris. If Anders knew anything about the elf, and he had to admit that he knew and understood little, Fenris was as confused as a person could be.

“Tea?” Fenris scrunched up his nose. “You won’t add another potion to it?” The healer shook his head. “No. That wouldn’t be wise, I guess. But I’ll take that as a yes?” After the elf slightly nodded, accompanied by another hiss – so his headache must still be quite bad – Anders stood up. Shortly after he returned with a cup of steaming tea. “Be careful, it’s hot!” He handed the cup over to Fenris and sat down next to him. Anders was wary to keep some distance between them. 

They sat there in silence while Fenris carefully sipped the tea and Anders observed him. Or rather how Fenris flinched, which movements caused him to hiss, if his skin would return to its normal colour when sitting down. Completely professional observations of course.

“So…” Anders couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “You bought a cat?” he waited for Fenris’ reaction. The elf turned his face away and stared at the opposite wall. “I did.” His voice seemed disinterested, but the way Fenris’ fingers twitched, Anders could tell that the topic was deeply problematic for Fenris.

“You left the cat food and water yesterday morning I guess?” Fenris nodded. Anders sighed. “As your mansion is full with rats I’m sure it didn’t starve.”

“She.”, mumbled Fenris towards the wall. “Excuse me?” Anders raised an eyebrow. “She. Her name’s Snowpaw.”

 _‘That is so cute!’_ Anders couldn’t stop the wide grin, that spread on his face. He couldn’t believe that Fenris, the stern, and prickly, and “no nonsense”-elf had named a cat Snowpaw.

“Of course she didn’t starve. She’s smart.” The elf deadpanned, but as he was talking about a kitten and not telling Anders off for talking about mages or anything, Anders didn’t mind the condescending way. On the contrary. Somehow it made it even more adorable, that Fenris talked so seriously about a cat.

“You are probably right. Cats are usually smarter than people.” He smirked. “But we still need to find a way to look after her. You can’t walk so far and I won’t let you try!” Anders frowned. “What shall we do?”

He had ideas. A lot of them actually. But each was sillier than the next and mostly involved someone carrying the elf to his mansion or the cat being brought to the clinic. Two things Anders didn’t want to suggest. As of yet, it was Fenris’ cat. And Anders didn’t want to overrule Fenris in this. It was far too mesmerizing that they actually sat there in his room and had that almost civil if odd conversation. Anders wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

Then Fenris turned towards him. “We?”


	18. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody needs to tend to Snowpaw. Negotiations begin and Fenris tries to keep it civil.  
> (by glowelf)

Anders couldn’t be serious. _‘Is he actually considering that WE do this TOGETHER???’_ Fenris turned his head to look at the mage next to him, but stopped before his head reached its final position. Ouch. He grimaced, which triggered another pitiful glance from the healer. _‘Being injured sucks!’_

“Fenris, you can’t even move your head without flinching! You can’t go back to your mansion in a state like this. At least not alone”, said Anders in a soft tone. Fenris hated to admit it, but the mage was right. He indeed didn’t feel like walking anywhere any time soon…

“Fine”, replied Fenris. “I won’t go there alone. But you won’t either!” This seemed to dumbfound Anders, since he failed to answer and simply stared at the elf. “She is a present after all”, explained Fenris with a serious expression, “If you receive Snowpaw, it will be through me, handing her over personally.” And the elf didn’t like the thought of Anders going all the way up to Hightown on his own. The mage still looked like a ghost and Fenris didn’t want him harmed. Which was completely logical. Anders had saved his life inside those tunnels. He had stitched him up afterwards. Well, he had drugged him – if unknowingly – but still…

That Fenris perhaps longed to see Anders’ face, when receiving the cat, was of course utter nonsense. 

Anders seemed to slowly recover from his confusion. “So, you want somebody else to tend to Snowpaw?”, he concluded. “It is the only logical solution”, retorted Fenris. Carefully he positioned himself on the bed, so that he could lean his back against the wall and look at Anders without turning his head. 

“Well, there is Hawke…”, suggested the mage. They thought about it. “No!”, they both exclaimed in unison, which made Anders smile his irritating lop-sided smile. The corners of Fenris’ mouth curled upwards a tiny inch. _‘That was actually… funny.’_

“What about Varric?”, asked Fenris. Anders hesitated, but finally nodded. “Alright, let’s try that. I can ask Varric to look after your cat… Andraste’s knickerweasel’s, I can’t believe the dwarf is going to see her before me…”

_‘Is the mage pouting?’_

The dwarf would be discrete and efficient as always. _‘Oh! Anders doesn’t know that the others don’t know about Snowpaw!’_ The elf blushed. _‘Kaffas. I need to inform him…’_

“Mage, you must know that… I haven’t told anyone about Snowpaw yet. I would prefer it to stay that way. Especially after Isabela’s latest interest in… our relation-… ahem... in us!” Fenris avoided to look in Anders’ direction. Their conversation was becoming more complicated by the minute. “Alright…”, was all the mage got out. 

“How long will the healing of my shoulder take?”, Fenris immediately asked, to change the subject. “If you let me see to the injury, it will only be a few weeks.” Fenris almost choked on his tea. “What? A. Few. Weeks?!” The mage was frowning by now. “Or even more, if you won’t let me tend to your shoulder every day.”

“Venhedis…” Fenris needed to reassure himself about his body’s condition and intentionally put his shoulder to a test. Bad idea. The groan that escaped his throat was transformed into a quieter yelp through Fenris’ will of iron alone. It did not suffice though. 

“Andraste’s tits, what do you think you’re doing?!!”, yelled Anders and immediately was fuzzing over him, the mug removed within an instant, his hands steadying the elf carefully. _‘It tingles…’_

No longer ignoring the fact that he had grown far too familiar with bright lights dancing in front of his eyes, Fenris decided to not move for some time. It had been the smallest of shrugs. And the pain had been more than overwhelming. 

“Mage…”

“Not one word!”, hissed Anders, who was still seeing to his shoulder. “And don’t you dare to move that arm again! Or I will…” The mage bit his tongue and trailed off all of a sudden. He even stopped probing the injury and withdrew his hands. “Of course, I wouldn’t do anything to you. Hope you are aware of that. You’re save here. I will not let you be harmed, neither by magic nor otherwise.”

Fenris hoped his face was not giving away all his feelings. Yet again there was the hot sensation of a blush on his cheeks and ears. “I know…”, he murmured. _‘Anders does really care? For me?!’_

“I want to return to the mansion”, mumbled Fenris. “As soon as possible.” Before the healer could let out another rant about how healing worked and how patients were meant to behave, the elf continued. “I don’t want to be a liability. There are many poor people that need your help more urgently.”

Probably beyond himself, Anders’ face lit up with a fond smile. “You are no liability, Fenris. The only reason you’re here is, because you helped to save people’s lives. You have the right to recover. You have the right to be tended to.”

The mage’s golden eyes where filled with something, Fenris couldn’t quite place. Sympathy? Admiration? It confused him to the utmost level. 

“This is your bed…”, he reminded the healer and expected the argument to be settled. Anders on the other hand never failed to surprise him. “I don’t mind. There are plenty of cots in the main room and I never sleep much anyway.”

“Perhaps you should change that”, retouched the elf. 

“We can drag your ass to Hightown as soon as you’re well enough to walk”, offered the healer. His expression had turned all serious. “If you quit your foolish acts and stay in my bed. As long as it’s necessary. Healer’s orders.”

The slender man turned to go and Fenris was thankful to get some space to think things through.

“Mage…”, the elf changed his mind, “Anders! Your healing is appreciated.”

The only response he got was another, ridiculously wide grin, which reached from the healer’s left to right ear. “Rest”, said Anders, his voice nothing but a mere whisper. And so Fenris did close his eyes again.


	19. A day at the clinic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris has agreed to stay with Anders... for the time being. Anders is left to deal with Varric, Hawke and eventually the events catching up with him.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

“Anders”

Seriously. What had happened to the elf? **_‘Besides the obvious injuries, the health potion overdose and buying a cat to apologize to you?’_** Justice supplied a whole bunch of answers to the mage’s rhetorical question. _‘Well, yes beside all that.’_ Anders sighed as he turned towards the potion he had left unfinished and the three workers that seemed eager to leave as soon as the healer gave his blessing. Lirene hadn’t come so far. Maybe she was busy in Lowtown? The workers, though, needed medical attention. _‘At least I can do something about that!’_ A few more simple spells, a bottle of health potion each and the workers were gone. Barely an hour later.

Anders had turned to his room again, only to find Fenris sleeping. The elf was still propped up against the wall, the empty tea cup in his hand. The mage couldn’t help but smile at the sight. And the memory of being called “Anders” for the first time.

It was a really ridiculous notion and it shouldn’t mean that much to him, that the elf had finally used the name instead of “mage” to address him. But it did. Coming from Fenris, this was almost as good as a hug from Hawke. Or a peck on the cheek from Isabela. Or Aveline agreeing with him on anything. Anders ran out of silly comparisons. _‘It’s special!’_ , he concluded more to himself than anyone else and left the room again. He didn’t want to move Fenris around. Firstly, because he didn’t dare to wake him up and secondly because this odd position might even be comfortable in Fenris’ condition. Despite Anders’ best efforts, the shoulder was still a mess and moving around wouldn’t increase the healing process.

“Anders?” A voice came from behind Anders and he turned. It was Lirene. “I heard there was an accident at the Bone Pit. And that Marian Hawke saved the workers. With your help!” The woman looked at Anders expectantly. Of course, she wanted to hear the story from him. Whatever she had gathered so far was probably rumours and gossip. _‘Might as well tell her the actual tale briefly.’_ “Well, the events are less spectacular than you might think…”

Anders communicated what had happened. Without drama or flair and Varric would have scolded him for his poor story telling. “… now you know. Nothing big, as I said.” The look Lirene gave him afterwards spoke otherwise. To stop any kind of undeserved praise, Anders immediately added. “Could you deliver a note to Varric Tethras. In the Hanged Man? It’s urgent!” As Lirene nodded, Anders got up, wrote down a quick message and handed it to her. “Thank you!”

The look on the dwarf’s face about two hours later, when he had finally come down to the clinic and Anders had told him of Fenris’ unusual request, had been priceless. If the topic hadn’t involved him, Anders would have joined Varric’s wide grin and soft chuckle. “Oh, Broody got himself into real trouble with that cat prank!” The laughter subsided and his expression got serious. “He’s well, isn’t he? Nothing you can’t fix.” Anders let out a huge sigh. “First thing he did once he woke up was yelling at me. So, I guess, he’s doing as well as he can. Currently sleeping in my bed…”

“Your…” Varric’s eyes got wide.

“Oh Maker’s arse, not what you think! There were other patients here yesterday. And you know how prickly he gets when he can’t be alone once he’s ill.” Despite himself Anders blushed. He was sure Varric wouldn’t tell any weird tales to their friends. But what he would spin in his mind and transform into parts of his fiction, Anders couldn’t tell. The dwarf nodded, yet the wicked grin in his face didn’t fade. “Then I’ll be on my way to look after your future cat in Fenris house! Sounds like fun!” He winked. “Seems as if at least one of you is making an effort to get along.” 

Anders raised a warning eyebrow, but he could just as well let it be. Varric was utterly unimpressed. “Don’t… don’t do this now, Varric. If Fenris hears you, he might run to his mansion whatever I say. It was far too close to being serious yesterday. Please, don’t joke with me today!” _‘Serious for the elf and I, too, feel like shit!’_ But Anders didn’t say the last part out loud. The first had been enough to stop Varric’s grin. “Alright Blondie! I’m at it!”

Varric had disappeared.

Shortly after Hawke had come with a huge basket of food. “Don’t even try to refuse this!” After another retelling of the night before – Anders intentionally left out the compromising parts - and some promises from her side to return the next day, Hawke had left.

The day had surprisingly passed without any new patients. Just Fenris in Anders’ bed.

The mage had started to worry when after a few hours there had still been no sign or word from Fenris. When he had entered his small chamber again the elf had been awake, staring at him silently, but his face showing more pain than at noon. Anders could only guess that Fenris really meant to be no liability and bother Anders with requests for healing. Which was stupid. He was a healer! _‘That’s what I do!’_

“Why haven’t you called me? Are you in pain? You must be starving!”

“It’s fine.” The elf broke the eye contact and instead stared at the wall. Anders let out a short humourless laughter. “Your shoulder looked like mashed potatoes yesterday, you got a blow to the head and you haven’t eaten anything all day. That is definitely not fine! I’ll get you some soup. Hawke brought supplies, so no talk about liabilities again! She wants you to be well soon!” The mage lingered in the door for a second. Against his better judgement, he gave Fenris the chance to reply, but that reply never came. Just a nod that was so faint, Anders wasn’t sure it had been there at all. 

When he reentered the room later with two bowls of soup, Fenris hadn’t moved. His back still leaning against the wall. Anders handed him one of the bowls when he realized that eating might be a bit difficult. He bit his tongue. Andraste’s tits, he at least had to ask, even if the reply would probably be a raging fit. “Do you want help with…” 

“I’ll manage…” A weak snarl and the elf balanced the bowl on his legs while carefully taking the spoon in his left hand. A soft smile stole itself into Anders’ face. He admired Fenris’ determination. To a point. “There is no shame in letting someone help you, Fenris. Speaking just of that. Varric agreed to take care of Snowpaw. And he won’t talk to anyone about it. And Hawke sends her best wishes. Along with a ton of food for both of us. She’s been to your mansion and didn’t find you, so suspected that you were injured after all.” The reply that the mage might have gotten to his first sentence was successfully silenced by Anders’ flow of words. That and the elf seemed to be quite hungry. 

The afternoon and evening went past in silence. After they had finished eating – Fenris ate almost three bowls until he started to get sick – Anders tended to the shoulder again. He removed all the bandages, let his healing flow in waves through the sore body and cautiously used some balm against the swelling before he put the bandages back on. Fenris had said nothing but watched him carefully. Which had brought back memories from the previous night and Fenris snuggling into Anders’ waist with that unprecedented soft smile. Which had let to Anders inwardly fighting against the blush that spread over his whole face and looking solely on the injury. Not the elf’s face. Not the suddenly red ear tips. Not at… no, not at anything.

Anders spend the night on a cot at the other end of the main room. He reasoned that Justice would still hear Fenris if he called for him in the middle of the night. Which was unlikely anyway given the stubbornness of the elf to never ask for help. But he, Anders, needed to be far away from him. To get some distance between himself and the elf. Not that the concept of physical distance could change anything about the fact that his thoughts were almost exclusively focused on Fenris. And the cat. And Isabela. And everything that had happened at the Bone Pit.

When Anders had seen the tunnel crack and crumble his focus hadn’t been on himself. Or Hawke. Not even truly on the workers. A thought had flashed through Anders’ mind before he had stopped the ceiling from crashing down and burying Fenris and the two workers. _‘Don’t let him die!’_ A million things and feelings were attached to that thought.

_‘Don’t let him die as an enemy of mine!’_

_‘Don’t let him die anyway!’_

_‘Don’t let him die before we ever get the chance to be friends!’_

_‘Don’t let him die thinking I am an abomination that would be no loss to the world if our places were reversed!’_

_‘Don’t let him die without knowing that I am sorry for all the times we fought!’_

_‘Don’t…’_

_‘Just. Don’t. Let. Him. Die!’_

Anders’ mind was screaming now. The shock of the event from the day before had finally caught up with him. He was shaking. His exhaustion broke through with sudden dizziness. And he desperately clung to the blanket and himself.

It could have been anyone. Hawke. Isabela. Himself. But it was Fenris. And it was Fenris’ desperate face he saw before his inner eye. The elf’s look filled with horror at the downfall of stones and a weird calmness, as if he had expected death for a long time now. Not reluctant. Just waiting. Anders despised that look! Despised that glimpse he had gotten at a part of Fenris he hadn’t known of before. A part that was deeply sad. And vulnerable. And just as the night before, when Fenris’ fragility had disturbed him to the core, Anders had used his innate magic to save the elf from the falling rocks. At whatever cost.

Because he would never let Fenris die!


	20. Unwelcome realisations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris finally has some time to reflect on the events of the last days.  
> (by glowelf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here goes another chapter! We hope you'll like it!  
> There will be a short break in updates until the New Year. We'll spend some time with our families and hopefully find the time to write some new chapters, too. We hope you're still excited for the next parts! We certainly are!
> 
> Wishing you happy holidays!  
> glowelf and kittenmage

Three days had passed, in which Fenris had spent most of his time lying half-conscious in Anders’ bed. If he hadn’t been needing the sleep to recover he would have been dead by now, killed by boredom. 

The elf wasn’t used to staying in the horizontal all day. His body and mind ached for a task. Action. Something. So, in lack of anything else, he had started to observe the clinic. And the mage. 

Fenris had seen, or rather heard, patients come and go. The clinic indeed was a busy place. The pain in his shoulder usually worsened over the day and reached its climax in the middle of the night, which caused the elf many sleepless hours. That were the solemn moments in which he had witnessed how often the healer did take a nightshift for some emergency or stayed up until early morning to write on his manifesto. 

Fenris also hadn’t missed how careful the healer treated him – he was supplying him with food and even cooked at least one meal every day – and how unnervingly giving Anders truly was. _‘I shouldn’t be keeping him from sleeping in his own bed!’_

Besides that thought, Fenris would never forget the expression Hawke’s face had shown, when she paid another visit and saw the elf lying in the mage’s bed for the first time. It had been a peculiar mixture of shock, utter bewilderment and one of her famous wide, knowing grins. Though there was nothing she could know about. At least nothing Fenris was aware of at the moment. 

“Anders, I think I am fine now”, declared Fenris. They were sharing another meal – it was breakfast this time – and had been sitting in silence for a while. Suspiciously the mage looked up from his cheese bread. He seemed to be irritated and happy every time Fenris used his name to address him. “What do you mean by that? Your shoulder isn’t fine, just in case you were asking for the opinion of a professional healer.”

The comment almost made Fenris… smirk. A few weeks ago, he would have lashed out at the mage and started a fight about the ‘insult’. Now the elf found Anders’ snarky reply to be… nothing more than that. It kind of was the mage’s way of dealing with things. 

Fenris put down the slice of bread he had been chewing on. A slice of bread the mage had buttered for him. “I think I can safely return to my mansion.”

“Oh.” The elf hadn’t expected Anders to be overenthusiastic on the decision, but to Fenris’ surprise no protest was to be heard. Instead the mage said: “If you are sure about this… But I still need to tend to your shoulder every day.”

Fenris carefully nodded. “I know.” He bit his lower lip. _‘Should ask Anders if he could come and see me. At least tomorrow. Will need to manage to go to the clinic the other days… But how do I ask him…?’_ Nervously Fenris lowered his gaze to the warm blanket that covered his legs. Anders’ blanket. For he was still lying in Anders’ bed.

“Could you… er… perhaps… come visit me… tomorrow?”, stuttered Fenris. He hated to ask this of the mage. _‘Anders will have to walk all the way to the mansion… Just for me…’_

“Of course! That’s fine with me! I’ll get to you after I’ve closed the clinic. It’s not a problem at all!” Anders smiled softly.

“Thank you”, mumbled the elf. 

A few hours later. Fenris was back at the mansion and he was feeling relieved to sit in his own bedroom, in his own bed. And to be alone. _‘Almost alone’_ , he corrected himself. Snowpaw had taken a seat on his lap and purred happily. She seemed to be fine, so Fenris assumed that the dwarf had done a decent job. _‘Good for Varric. Need to thank him for helping out…’_

The mage had accompanied him all the way to Hightown, which indeed had been necessary. Fenris still wasn’t as fit as he liked to be. To his surprise, Anders had left immediately after they had reached Fenris’ home and the elf had been wrapped up in a blanket on his bed. 

_‘Perhaps Anders did want to avoid Snowpaw? Doesn’t make sense. He was so eager to meet her… He could have had another patient waiting? Or he wanted to give me some space? Or something I said made him leave?’_

Fenris exhaled slowly. His body was exhausted from the walk, but his mind was restless. Now that he was on his own, the elf finally allowed his mind to reflect on the trip to the Bone Pit. Or rather the things, which had happened afterwards… 

At least the mission to find the disappearing workers had been successful. 

Anders.

Fenris bit his lip at the mere thought of the mage. There could have been a lot of things to reflect on – why he had almost been killed, how he could avoid this in the future when being on yet another mission with Hawke, how he could become even stronger to protect others, including his friends – BUT all he could think about was Anders. 

The mage had not only saved his life, but also been kind. He had been there for him, regardless of all the bickering and insults they had exchanged in the past. Anders had even been holding his hand.

The elf blinked. 

“Fasta vass!”, he mumbled and was very well aware that his ears had turned all hot and red. 

He had not only held Anders’ hand. Fenris had let down his guard. Of all his companions, it had been Anders who the elf had trusted in a moment of weakness. _‘I could have asked Hawke or Isabela for help, too…’_

The thought which troubled him the most was that he had also clung to Anders. And had not been rejected. 

Fenris felt his cheeks, too, turning hot. He at least had been drugged, which didn’t really count as an excuse from Fenris’ point of view, but the mage… _‘He only has endured my stupidity because he wanted to be nice to me... He was busy with healing anyway!’_ That made sense. Certainly. That was the solution. The elf shook his head and looked at Snowpaw, who was watching his silent monolog with curiosity.

No, it made no sense. At the beginning, Anders had protested and wanted his hand back, but when Fenris had leaned into him and rested his head on Anders’ side he hadn’t objected. Could this mean… something? Or was he just imagining things? Did he want to interpret Anders’ actions as something more than tending to a patient???

Nervously Fenris brushed some hair strands out of his face. Could it be that… _‘No! I’m simply being stupid right now!’_ Yet the elf knew he had lost the argument to himself. He liked the mage. And perhaps not only as a friend. Perhaps he was feeling lonely. And perhaps Anders could fill the hole that had been burning in Fenris’ chest ever since he ran away from Danarius.

Kindness. Care. Trust.

In his mind those were words now linked to the mage. Fenris closed his eyes and sighed. He hadn’t imagined things could get more complicated than they were already. And Anders certainly didn’t answer any of Fenris’ feelings.

To make things even worse, there still was Isabela. The elf hadn´t seen her since their return from the Bone Pit, but he was certain that she would have to say a few colourful things to him and to the mage. If she had received only the slightest of hints what had been going on between Fenris and Anders, she would double her efforts of getting the two of them together. 

Of course the elf would protest against any of her actions, condemn them and deny everything. Only secretly he wasn´t so sure anymore.

_‘Venhedis, Fenris, you are a blighted idiot.‘_


	21. Alone again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris is back in his mansion. Which somehow isn't as okay for Anders as it had appeared.  
> (by kittenmage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back from our short break.  
> We wish all of you a happy New Year! :)

_‘Alone again.’_

After Fenris had safely been transported from one bed to another, namely his own, Anders had left the elf as fast as possible. Fenris had wanted to leave, why should Anders linger longer than necessary? The mage sighed and looked around his clinic. All the cots were empty, the fireplace was unlit. His potion bottles and herbs neatly arranged on the shelf. Next to the big red ball of yarn that was still sitting there. Everything looked unusually clean and bright with the faint light of a sunny day filtering in through the slits that should probably function as windows. Everything looked… lonely.

Anders sighed again. Since their return from the Bone Pit, he had had to deal with an absurd amount of healing and a health potion drunk Fenris who had been stuck in Anders’ bed for four days. It had been stressful and exhausting and messy and chaotic. But also refreshing and comforting to have someone to talk to when Anders closed the clinic. To talk about something else that didn’t revolve solely around healing and injuries. To cook and share a meal with someone. To… to have company. **_‘I’m company, Anders!’_** Justice interrupted Anders’ pointless staring. _‘You are…’_ , replied Anders. He shrugged and blinked and turned towards the door again to light the lantern. There was no time to dwell on the hollow feeling inside his chest.

Hours passed and the morning turned into noon. There hadn’t been many patients. Anders could count them on one hand and they were healed in just as many minutes. So, despite not wanting to, he had a huge amount of time to dwell on things. And thoughts. And feelings. And he didn’t like that. Not at all. _‘Why can’t I for once, be rational and heal someone and not miss his stupid broody face as soon as he’s out of my home.’_ Justice made a sound that remembered Anders of a polite cough before he added. **_‘And bed!’_** That comment made the mage almost yell at himself. Or the spirit. He couldn’t tell. He blushed and turned back towards his shelves to fetch the ball of yarn from its place. “It’s all your damn fault! Yours and Isabela’s and Hawke’s and…”

“Do you usually argue with wool, Anders?”

Hawke stood in the doorframe and watched Anders with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Anders had turned around in surprise, letting go of the yarn instantly. “Hawke! Maker! No I… don’t!” He let his head sink. Great, now his friend had caught him screaming at an object blaming it and her for everything.

“Isn’t Fenris still here? He could mock you for that outburst.” Hawke smiled slightly and approached the startled man. Anders shook his head. “No, he’s back at his own place. Wanted to leave this morning.” Involuntarily, Anders let out a sigh.

“You mean he’s gone? He wanted to leave and you just let him? Isn’t his shoulder still quite bad.” Hawke frowned and settled herself on the desk next to Anders. “It’s well enough so he doesn’t need to be under constant surveillance.” That was true. The mage bend down to fetch the ball of yarn from the floor, quickly brushed the dust off and put it back on its shelf.

“What exactly are you blaming me and the wool for?” Hawke quirked an eyebrow and Anders wished, not for the first time today, to be somewhere else. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing. Right. Haven’t seen you as angry towards anyone apart from Fenris!” The warrior fixed her gaze on Anders. “What is wrong? Is this about taking you with us to the Bone Pit? Because I’m glad you came with us…”

“What? Are you kidding! You would have died in there! Fenris would be crushed and some of the workers might have never made it back to Kirkwall…” A look of shock had flashed over Anders’ face. Along with his feelings from three nights ago. And no, he didn’t even want to imagine what could have happened…

“Hmmm… ok, so it’s still about that trip?” She slightly nodded in the direction of the ball of yarn. “But you said you weren’t angry. And you and Fenris seemed to get along well enough…” Anders interrupted Hawke quite impatiently. “It’s NOT about that!”

“Well, what else?! Don’t be so cryptic, you’re scary like that…” And Hawke actually looked a bit worried. Which made Anders’ chest clench. He didn’t want to worry Hawke. 

“It’s… everything is weird right now. Fenris was almost nice after he woke up and then he of course wanted to get home and away from me. And he’s not even healed properly and every damn time I see that stupid ball of yarn I see his grumpy, judging face and…” he trailed of. His words bubbled out of him before he could think it through. They were out ere he realized what he had just said.

“You could have stopped him.”

“Have you ever tried to stop Fenris?!”

“Well, he will listen to reason…”

“But not from me!”

“Have you tried?!”

The snarky reply that was about to come out got stuck in Anders’ throat. He blinked and stared at Hawke. Because… he hadn’t. He had accepted Fenris’ wish and simply let him leave. Despite his own better judgment. Because he was afraid. So afraid to anger Fenris when they had just started to not be angry with each other.

“No….”

The discussion with Hawke continued after that. The topic shifted towards the workers and how they were doing, towards negotiations between Hawke and Hubert to make the Bone Pit a safer place. _‘As if that would ever be the case.’_ But in the end, they were talking about Fenris again. His shoulder injury. The fact that he had hid it from them. Both Hawke and Anders agreed that this wasn’t out of malicious intent. But as Marian said, that she felt a little disappointed because of Fenris’ apparent lack of trust, Anders could feel what she meant. Because he felt it, too.

“So, you have to visit him daily to treat his shoulder, right?” Hawke looked over at Anders, who simply nodded. “Please take the route through my cellar! I’ll inform Bodhan about it. Even if I’m not at home, just use my home as an exit. I’d feel a lot better if my favourite healer was safe while treating our elf.” She smiled at Anders. The first real smile since she had entered Anders’ clinic. The mage replied the same way. He appreciated the offer and was sure to act upon it. A trip through the cellar was faster and a lot safer than all the way up through Darktown and Lowtown.

As warrior and mage were stupidly smiling at each other in silent agreement there came a cough from the door. “Interrupting something?” Varric entered the clinic, wearing his usual smirk. But without it reaching his eyes. Instead the dwarf’s gaze quickly moved over Hawke and Anders, resulting in a lifted eyebrow. “Coming to talk to Blondie, and finding our fearless leader already here. Well, that’s a surprise.” He didn’t sound surprised. More like annoyed.

 _‘Oh no…’_ Anders internally started screaming and imagined to bang his head against the wall. **_‘Anders, what is this disturbing image of your head hitting the wall?’_** Anders breathed out slowly in an attempt to keep calm and not blurt out his reply. _‘That image is conjured by the fact that Varric probably thinks I’m interested in Hawke. He doesn’t seem to like that. And on top of the problem with the stubborn lyrium elf and the cat I DON’T NEED A JEALOUS DWARF!’_

Silence.

Silence in which Hawke greeted Varric and immediately started talking about a potential date for the next card night. Silence that was followed by: **_‘Mortals are confusing.’_**


	22. A severe case of having-a-mage-problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders pays Fenris a visit at his mansion to continue with the treatment of the elf's shoulder. After Fenris' unwelcome realisations, things soon start to get a bit… complicated.  
> (by glowelf)

“Fenris?”

The elf blinked. “Hmmm?”

_‘Shoulder. Hurts!’_

Fenris moved the limbs that supposedly belonged to his body to raise his chest and head. Oh yes, he remembered. He had intended to make a fire and boil some water. While waiting for the flames to grow, Fenris had taken a seat in one of the wooden chairs. He had wanted to let his tired head rest only for a moment, used his left arm as a pillow against the kitchen table and then… He must have fallen asleep. 

“Fenris? Are you alright?” Anders entered the small room without knocking. He looked concerned, but his golden eyes lit up when he spotted the elf sitting at the table. “There you are! You really got me worried! Good to see you’ve not fallen or hit your head…” A smirk was thrown at Fenris. “Have you been sleeping?”

Fenris felt how he blushed from ear tip to ear tip. To hide said ears, he brushed through his hair in a desperate attempt to tame it. “I am waiting for the fire…”, he realised the fire had most likely burned down hours ago, “…wanted to make tea.”

“Oh”, said Anders. He had brought some things with him and placed a bag in front of Fenris on the table. “Do you want me to help? No magic, of course!”

A moment of hesitation. Being aware that his default reaction – “No, I’m fine!” – would be a lie and not provide them with tea either, Fenris nodded. “Thanks for coming here”, he mumbled, while the mage busied himself with wood and sparks. “You’re welcome, Fenris! Anytime!”

Slowly Fenris got up to get the tea leaves. His gaze flickered over the crouched figure of the mage and he thought that the strange feelings he had been facing perhaps were nothing more than born out of confusion. The ridiculous fluffy looking shoulder pieces of Anders’ coat mirrored the movements of the mage’s hands and caught the elf’s attention. Fenris wondered how they would feel if he ran his fingers through them. 

“Are you ok?” Anders had turned around, soot on his cheeks, and smiled. Speechlessly frozen to the spot the elf opened and shut his mouth several times. “…Sure…”

From that moment on Fenris knew. _‘I have a mage problem.’_ And it was a severe case. 

He managed to get through drinking tea without more embarrassing moments. Well, except for another huge blush as their fingers touched, when Anders handed Fenris his cup. In comparison, the treatment of the shoulder injury turned out to be Fenris’ personal hell. 

They had moved upstairs to the bed room, where Fenris had prepared the salves and bandages Anders had given to him. “Eh, yes, let’s get started, shall we?”, stammered Anders and pointed at Fenris bed. “Do you want me to help you with…”

“No!”, shot Fenris back. He immediately sat down on the only furniture in the room and started to undress. He was wearing an old tunic, which now had a huge hole in it, so Fenris could pull it over his shoulder and flexed arm. 

It was weird. As far as the elf could judge, Anders tried to get himself something to do while he waited. He rolled up all the bandages again and sorted the salves into some order that was beyond Fenris understanding. The elf entered an uneven battle with his tunic and finally slipped out of it. “I’m ready”, he said, his voice tense. The mage turned around and made eye contact. “Are you still ok with me using healing magic on you or is that a problem? Don’t want to bother you… It would quicken the healing process and be more efficient though. And you would get rid of me sooner.” Anders laughed nervously, his behaviour mirroring Fenris’ mood exactly. 

“No, it’s fine. Go on”, the elf heard himself mumble. The mage didn’t wait another moment. He conjured that soft, bright energy of his and gently moved his blue glowing hands over Fenris’ shoulder. It didn’t hurt, it was warm and it definitely felt… nice. 

Anders placed his hands a bit closer to Fenris’ skin, a concentrated expression on his face. The sudden relaxation caused a shiver to run down Fenris’ back and he shifted. While crossing his legs in front of him, he absent-mindedly leaned forward a bit. Into the direction of the mage, who was standing before him. 

As skin touched skin, Fenris’ tattoos exploded with light. He inhaled sharply. The electrifying sensation that jolted through his body made him flinch. Surprised Anders and he pulled back simultaneously. Both breathing a bit heavier than usual they stared at each other, literally shocked.

Fenris’ mind went blank. His cheeks and ears were once more feeling ablaze, all his senses were tingling, aching for the lost contact. He felt electrified, but in a good way. _‘There is absolutely nothing about this situation that deserves to be labelled as good!!!’_

He was glad that Anders regained his ability to speak fast. “T-that was not supposed to happen…” The mage’s eyes darted from his hands to Fenris’ shoulder and back. 

Being totally confused, Fenris couldn’t tell what Anders was thinking. Not at all. The only thing he could do was gape at the mage. 

“Fasta vass…”, he whispered, after what seemed an eternity, and added “I apologize, that was my fault! I’m sorry Anders! Don’t worry! I’m ok. Are you ok?”

The mage apparently was dumbstruck by that, since he didn’t reply. They stared at each other another long moment. “I… don’t understand… You… ehm… was that… Tevene?”

Only then Fenris realised, he had spoken in his mother tongue. So, his problem with Anders was worse than he had expected. _‘Just brilliant!’_

“It was my fault…”, Fenris translated, lowering his gaze to the ground, “I apologise… If you’re ok… Could we… please get done with the healing?”

The mage nodded and though still taken aback he very carefully continued the treatment. Fenris wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn Anders’ hands were trembling slightly, like his own did. 

Again, they shared a most awkward farewell. Directly after finishing, the mage brought as much distance between them as possible, instructed the elf about how to apply the salves he had brought along and other medical things, which Fenris was completely oblivious to. 

“Er, I’ll come and see you at the clinic tomorrow”, managed the elf, as Anders turned to take his leave. The mage stopped abruptly and clenched his fists. “I would rather come here to attend to your shoulder again. If that’s alright with you. Haven’t even seen your cat yet and I… er… need to buy some things round the corner, so I will be close by anyway…”

Fenris wanted to protest. He hated himself for even toying with the thought of accepting Anders’ offer. _‘I don’t want to be a liability!’_ Of course not. But it was much more complicated than that. _‘I don’t want Anders to put himself in danger for me. I want Anders to be safe.’_

Before he could formulate his response, the mage nodded. “Alright, see you tomorrow then. Bye Fenris!” And with that Anders rushed out of Fenris’ bedroom. The elf listened to him, hurrying down the stairs and then the front door opened and closed very quietly. Fenris blinked. The mage was gone. 

A loud knock on his door woke him from his slumber. It felt like in the middle of the night, but judging by the sinking sun it had to be evening. Fenris sighed. Most likely it would be the mage. He readied himself anyway, got up and sneaked into the hallway. Better safe than sorry. No sword necessary. His body was a weapon. Well, used to be one... 

Fortunately, it was Varric he spotted in the entrance hall. The dwarf flashed a wide grin as he saw Fenris and waved. “Broody! Rumours have it you’re still alive! Came by to see for myself!” Varric winked and climbed the stairs enthusiastically. Suspiciously the elf examined the bag the other man was carrying. 

“It’s good to see you, Varric! I’m sorry, might not be in my best shape today.” A weak attempt at a joke, but the dwarf laughed anyway, politely overlooking the dark rings under Fenris’ eyes, the strange tunic and his general messy appearance. “Never mind! Blondie has already told me that you needed rest and all that healer’s stuff. But I thought what you really needed was some company and fun to recover!”

That dumbfounded Fenris. He simply nodded and hoped he wouldn’t regret it later. Before the dwarf could explain what he exactly meant with “fun”, the elf suggested to go and sit in the kitchen. 

With wobbly legs Fenris got downstairs and happily collapsed into one of the wooden chairs. Snowpaw appeared and greeted Varric with an encouraging purr. The dwarf took the hint and lifted the cat up to stroke her. 

“Oh…”, Fenris remembered something important he had lost track of. He was really out of it right now. Slightly embarrassed the elf rubbed his head. “I wanted to thank you for looking after Snowpaw… Haven’t got the chance to get you anything yet, but I was really glad you did that for me…”

The dwarf let out a boisterous laughter. “No need to give me anything! Being around her majesty was my reward! Has Anders seen her already?”, he asked curiously. Fenris sadly shook his head. “No, not really. I wanted to hand her over in the perfect moment, but up till now the plan didn’t work out… And Anders said he doesn’t want to bring a cat to the clinic, because it would be too dangerous…”

He drifted off. “The perfect moment?”, repeated Varric, his brows raised in disbelieve. “Huh! You did just call Blondie by his name. Mind to tell me what is going on?”

Fenris blushed. He was so sick of blushing! He covered his flushed cheeks with his hands. Well, only one cheek. With only one hand.

“Nothing is going on… I’m totally useless and Anders is helping me to recover, though he has so much better things to do! He must think I act weird. Every time I’m trying to do something good in general it turns out devastating.” He slightly raised his bandaged right arm to prove his point. 

To his surprise Varric’s glance softened with sympathy. “You know, you could have died out there?” He was referring to the tunnel incident. Of course. Fenris sighed. “Yes, I know. But Hawke and Isabela or some of the miners could have died, too!”, he retouched. “Or Anders. He used all of his energy to stop the stones from falling on our heads.”

Varric placed Snowpaw back on the floor and sat down next to the elf, pouring them two glasses of water. Obviously, he was listening to the healer to some point. “You could have asked for help, Fenris. I am aware that is just not your style, but everybody would have come to aid you. There was no need to make yourself suffer. That’s what friends are for.”

The words wrapped themselves around Fenris’ heart, feeling heavy but also comforting in his chest. Perhaps the dwarf was right. He managed a smile, but needed to move back to safer grounds to stay comfortable. “Thanks for the life lesson and congratulations, you’re even worse than Anders!” Varric smirked. “You’re welcome!” His cheerfulness faded a little, as he added: “Take care of yourself, ok? And don’t scare Anders off. He really wants to help you. He cares, too, though his way of showing it might be a bit… special.”

Fenris couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, registering the irony of the whole situation. The thought _‘Anders cares?’_ was immediately shoved away. He wouldn’t wonder about the mage’s motives while the dwarf was around. Certainly not!

Said dwarf raised his brows again, yet didn’t comment on the elf’s outburst. He peeked into the second bag at the table. The one Anders had placed there. “Woah, got yourself nice supplies. That comes in handy.” A mischievous grin stole itself into Varric’s face. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”, asked Fenris, uncertain if he wanted to hear the reply. From time to time the dwarf came up with really stunning or stupid ideas. Or both.

“You might not be aware of this, but today is game night after all and since you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon I invited everybody over.” Fenris’ mouth dropped open. “You did what?!”

Right. He needed to dress properly. He needed to brush his hair. Make a fire. Boil some water. Get some bread or whatever Anders and Varric had provided him with. Between all the slightly panicked planning he was incredibly happy. And it felt strange. Everybody was coming over to have a fun night. At his place. Because they wanted to be with him. Fenris didn’t really know what to say. He was touched.

Doing him no favour, Varric stated the obvious. “Oh, don’t make such a face, Broody! No need to cry!” He winked at the speechless elf. “And they are bringing their own wine, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

The remark gained him a weak nudge from Fenris. “Ouch!” They both laughed. “I’ll get a fire going. You… er… simply stay seated!”

Fenris blinked, perhaps to rid himself of any unnecessary fluid in the corner of his eyes, and started to unpack the bags. That would at least distract him for a while.


	23. A healer or a friend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Card night happens for the first time at Fenris' place. Though Anders isn't sure if that is a wise plan. Isabela and an unexpected addition to their party kind of prove him right.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

The confrontation with the probably jealous dwarf was averted by the suggestion to have the next card night at Fenris’ place. Since the elf wouldn’t be able to move anywhere else without bigger trouble, Hawke immediately agreed on it and Varric offered to arrange everything. Anders had distanced himself as far as possible from Hawke during that talk without it being obvious for her. But before Anders managed to set things right with Varric, the dwarf had disappeared. The matter on which he had wanted to see Anders so urgently was obviously forgotten.

The day after Anders had set out to heal Fenris. But on his way to the mansion he made quite an extensive detour. First to the Hanged Man. Varric wasn’t there, but at least Isabela occupied her usual spot at the bar. “Sparklefingers you’re free to visit me? Has Fenris send you to do the shopping?” Her smirk was paired with a suggestively raised eyebrow. “Hawke said she found him in your bed. Care to give me the details.” Anders sighed dramatically and placed his hands on Isabela’s arms. “The elf was in my bed because it’s the least uncomfortable in my clinic. His condition was too bad to yell at me for four days now and he’s back in his own hovel. Praise Andraste! So please…Stop!” A small pout appeared on Isabela’s face. “So no swooning over your patient? No begging from Fenris to help him?” Anders let go off her with a hiss. “Is anything serious to you Bela! He almost died and it was my fault!”

“You stand corrected, he almost died and survived thanks to you!” Isabela crossed her hands in front of her chest. “And sorry to disappoint you, I take things seriously. That’s why I didn’t show up and tease him in front of you.” With a sigh she turned towards her mug. “Can’t promise anything for tonight though…” The wicked grin was back. 

“Could you at least promise to keep the alcohol away from him! It won’t help with the healing. And I swear injured Fenris is bad enough, I don’t need him drunk on top of that!” He desperately tried not to pout at her to get the assurance he needed. But according to Justice’s **_‘Your begging is not dignified, Anders!’_** and Isabela’s smirk, he failed. “I promise, Blondie. And now take care of your pretty warrior.”

As Anders furiously stomped out of the inn, he could still hear Bela’s cheerful “See you later!”. Why had he thought that card night was a good idea at the moment?

Talking with Merrill was a lot easier. She was simply concerned for everybody’s welfare and would have given Anders every promise in regards of taking care of Fenris. It surprised him. In the light of Fenris’ distrust towards mages and even bigger hate for blood magic, Anders was impressed by the unwavering loyalty of the small Dalish. Impressed and grateful.

To find Aveline was a task that could take longer than he liked, so Anders went to see his patient first. **_‘Why are you so angry Anders?’_** Justice hovered at the edge of Anders’ thoughts peeking at the mage’s inner mess. **_‘If you want the elf back in the clinic, just tell him.’_** If only it were as easy. And if only Anders was sure he really wanted that just for practical reasons.

About an hour later Anders was almost running from Fenris’ mansion. No, it wasn’t almost. As soon as the heavy door fell closed behind him he ran around the next corner to get away from the elf. That Fenris wouldn’t follow him, didn’t make a difference.

 _‘What happened right now?!’_ Anders stared at the street, a few passers-by returned his look in wonder. He must have been giving the impression of someone almost running for his life. **_‘The lyrium started singing as you touched the elf! Soft song. So much magic…’_** Justice… hummed? This took Anders by surprise. _‘I’ve healed his prickly ass a thousand times, but his stupid tattoos never reacted like THAT!’_ **_‘You never healed his butt, Anders!’_** Justice’s voice inside his head sounded confused. _‘Andraste’s tits! I know! That’s a metaphor!!’_ Anders spun around on his heels and made his way towards Aveline. He needed a distraction. And in Aveline’s presence it was almost impossible to think of the elf… or that strange wave of energy… or those blighted green eyes that had started to look at him so softly. “AARGH!” Anders let out a cry that made several people around him jump in surprise. _‘How am I to survive tonight?’_

How he spent the time until he had to get to Hightown again for card night, Anders knew not. He had the suspicion that Justice had handled some healing. Because the only thing he recollected were several hours of swearing and actually fulfilling his plan from the day before to hit his head against the wall. It hadn’t helped. And he hadn’t troubled himself with healing the bruise on his forehead. Never waste magic on something as foolish as this!

There he was now, cramped around Fenris’ big, but still too small kitchen table with the others. The supplies he had brought earlier had been turned into a delicious soup. _‘Is that Varric’s doing?’_ Everyone was there. Happily eating and chatting and drinking fresh apple juice. Aveline brought it from the market and Anders couldn’t thank her enough nor the others that they listened to his advice to not bring alcohol. Even Isabela had come without the expected wine. “Don’t want to tempt you to disregard Blondie’s wishes!” At which Fenris had averted his gaze.

Their card game began and the evening went downhill. At least from Anders’ perspective. Fenris had seemed to be quite glad to have company. The elf probably wasn’t used to being the centre of attention, though. The puzzled look on his face whenever someone asked if he was ok or complimented his determination to get all the workers to safety was almost adorable… **_‘You’re thinking about the elf again.’_** Anders blushed at Justice’s comment.

As Isabela sat down next to Fenris during the last round and placed an arm around the back of Fenris’ chair, Anders expected the mansion to implode in five seconds. But Fenris remained calm. That could only be attributed to the fact that he didn’t know what Anders knew. That the pirate had not only not given up her matchmaking, but wanted to throw herself into it even more eagerly now. She wasn’t even perturbed by sneezing all evening and the itching in her eyes that appeared for some mysterious reason.

“Well.” She drew out the sound into a purr. “Tell me Fenris, did Anders really use magic for healing you? He told me that he was very reluctant, because of your dislike for magic.” A dramatic flutter of eyelashes and a fake-concerned frown were added to the terribly obvious remark. Anders cringed. He would have loved to silence Isabela right then and there, when Fenris answered. Well, more like “whispered”. Anders could barely hear the elf across the table. “He had no other choice… he tried health potions first… but…” The deep blush on Fenris’ face seemed to be contagious as Anders felt his own cheeks burning in embarrassment. So Fenris remembered what he had done that night.

“Shit…”

Everyone turned towards him. Anders, who hadn’t realized that he had cursed aloud, fumbled for words to explain, when his eyes fell onto something. Or rather someone. And instead of a reply an excited yelp left his throat and he was on his feet within seconds.

“Well, aren’t you the cutest and most beautiful cat in Kirkwall! Oh, you definitely are!!”

Fenris’ wish to hand the cat over himself was completely forgotten, as the tiny ball of fur meowed against Anders’ chest before she began purring and leaning into Anders’ touch. “Isn’t she absolutely adorable!” The mage turned to show the cat to his friends and froze at their expressions.

Fenris’ gaze was fixed on him and the cat. If not for the general shock, Anders would have allowed himself to muse on the tiny almost smile he spotted on the elf’s face. But there were still Aveline, Hawke, Merrill and Isabela who eyed the cat with varying degrees of confusion and disbelief. Along with a tinge of realization on Isabela’s part. There goes the mystery reason behind her sneezing. Varric just leaned back in his chair, a smug grin plastered across his face. If Anders was correct the sentence “Enjoying the show” was running amok in Varric’s mind.

That was the moment when everyone turned to Fenris. “Since when do you have a cat?!”

Oh, how much Anders had wished to spare Fenris the embarrassment of having to explain why he had a cat. And for whom he had bought it in the first place. But that would have meant to confirm he knew of it. Which would have led to even more established suspicions on Isabela’s part. And that woman already knew enough of the no longer hate between Anders and the elf. So, he remained silent, watching Fenris’ ordeal with growing unease. _‘That’s my fault…’_ **_‘Yes, it is.’_** _‘Thank you, Justice. Very helpful…’_

It had been bad.

It could have been worse though. At least that was what Anders told himself as he walked back to his clinic through Hawke’s secret tunnel. Fenris had managed surprisingly well. But afterwards his glance towards Anders had been so… full. Full of an emotion Anders couldn’t place. He dearly hoped the elf didn’t hate him now. Because he could take a lot. Just not going back to being hated by his friend. 

The next day and the next treatment were anticipated with growing dread. Helped along by Justice’s remarks on how to reduce the tension. None of them helped. Quite the contrary. By the time, Anders entered the mansion around midday, he felt extremely guilty for not helping Fenris. Worse yet, he had the feeling he had betrayed the elf in favour of being secure from Isabela.

There were soft voices from Fenris’ room. Was that…? It sounded a lot like Aveline. And true enough, the red-haired captain of the guard sat next to Fenris in front of the fire place. Anders was at a loss for words. He had advised their friends to visit Fenris, so he wouldn’t be alone all the time. But he was not used to people listening to his advice or pleas. Apart from that… it made Anders feel no longer needed. At least not as company. And that realization hurt even more than his conviction that he had betrayed Fenris the evening before.

“I came to change the bandages”, he simply said and Fenris followed the implied question without even saying anything. He went over to his bed, sat down and let Anders remove the bandages. After Anders was done healing and examining the shoulder – which was mending pretty well – he felt Fenris’ hand brush his own away. “I can manage putting it back on…” The elf wasn’t looking at him, still Anders detected something in Fenris’ eyes that he couldn’t make out. Was Fenris really that angry with him?

“Yes of course… sorry…” He stuttered.

“I’ll put the bandages back on, Anders. Thank you!” Aveline had stood up from her seat and went over to the bed. Anders’ heart was hammering against his chest. He merely nodded and left. Almost missing his staff that leaned against the wall and completely forgetting the new balm he had brought for Fenris. He stumbled out of the mansion and back to his clinic.

The day after was only slightly less terrible. Varric was with Fenris this time. And though Anders was allowed to heal and bandage Fenris himself, the elf spoke not one word directly towards Anders. And what little he said was nothing of importance and more directed towards the floor or the opposite wall than himself.

Again, Anders had to fight down the unease of a clenching chest and angry tears running down his cheeks. He was foolish! Utterly foolish! For thinking the elf would need him… or want him close. He just needed a healer. Not a friend. Let alone Anders.

Fenris didn’t need Anders.

And if Anders had thought that the feelings of the last days had been bad this belief proved him wrong. It hurt. By Andraste’s tits, it hurt worse than any of Fenris’ insults!

Because Anders realized now that he wanted to be there. To be the friend sitting with Fenris. To talk with him. To… he wanted to be with Fenris!

**_‘You’re not doing a good job at that Anders!’_ **

In answer to that Anders grabbed the nearest potion bottle and threw it against the opposite wall in his clinic. The glass shattered into hundreds of pieces that rained down unto the dusty floor. As if in response Anders slumped down and started crying.

Of all people… it had to be Fenris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note of the Author: someone give Anders a hug please! :(


	24. Temptation and resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris has a hard time not telling Anders what is going on and constantly being under the curious eyes of their friends doesn´t help…
> 
> (by glowelf)

“Hey Anders! Good to see you!”, chirped Merrill. “It’s so nice of you, to come here every day!” The Dalish had been unbearably friendly and caring so far, but the happiness that radiated from her as the other mage entered Fenris’ kitchen was capping it all. 

Immediately Fenris got up from his chair. The awkwardness between Anders and him had reached a whole new level by now. It had started with the cat incident on the improvised card night at his place. 

“Came to… You know why I’m here…”, mumbled Anders. He didn’t even look Fenris in the eyes. His grasp around the new bandages seemed unusually tight, his lips were pressed together as if to keep any unwanted comments in. Not managing a proper reply, Fenris simply nodded. 

So, Anders had seen Snowpaw, fondly showing her to everyone and kind of embarrassed Fenris in front of their whole group in the process. Fenris had mixed feelings about this. Firstly: It wasn’t entirely Anders’ fault. Fenris had wanted to avoid the others to see the cat. He had intended to put Snowpaw in his bedroom, but missed doing it in time. If only the mage had NOT presented her to everyone… Secondly: Fenris would never forget the happiness on Anders’ face when he held Snowpaw in his arms. Thirdly: Fenris would never forget the torturing moment in which everybody had turned their questioning gazes on him either. The comments he had received after stuttering an explanation had been surprisingly harmless though. Except Isabela’s perhaps. 

Considering how incredibly happy Anders had looked, this had definitely been worth all the trouble it caused Fenris.

They moved over to Fenris’ bed room. As usual Fenris undressed as quickly as possible, sat on his bed and desperately tried to focus on anything except Anders.

The mage carefully removed the bandages and every time his fingers brushed over Fenris’ skin, the elf had to concentrate very hard to stop his tattoos from responding to the touch. Fenris felt like an arrow on a string. It was bad. Because he didn’t want Anders to know how he felt. And Merrill watching them silently from the door frame with some curiosity didn’t improve things. Because he also didn’t want the small Dalish to know how he felt.

There had been the plan to invite Anders over more often, to see Snowpaw. At first the elf had considered it a good idea. But since the mage was acting so strangely, Fenris wasn’t sure anymore. What if Anders didn’t want to see neither Snowpaw nor him? 

Anders continued with the treatment, now starting with the worst part. The healing magic washed over Fenris. It got even harder to keep his lyrium markings from lighting up. But it wasn’t just his markings. Fenris enjoyed the warmth of the spell, his emotions running amok. He wanted to lean into Anders’ touch. He wanted Anders to know how he felt. He wanted to pull the taller man close and…

Fenris clenched his fists.

“Are we done?”, he forced out. Fenris was aware how harsh his voice sounded, yet he couldn’t help it. Anders retreated immediately. “Sure…” He didn’t even ask, if he should put the bandages back on this time. With hanging shoulders the mage simply turned away and packed up his things. 

“Is something wrong?”, asked Merrill. Her expression was all worried, her ears lowered sadly.

“Everything is great!” Anders almost shouted. The two elves looked up at him, but the mage rushed out of the mansion without any further comment.

They were back in the kitchen again. “Fenris, I think you should be nicer to Anders… He is doing so much for you.”  
A pang of guilt froze Fenris to the spot. There he sat, his shoulder without new bandages, his chest bare. “I know”, he mumbled and buried his face in his hand.

Merrill got up and took the bandages, which lay on the table. “Shall I help you with these?”, she asked carefully. Fenris mobilized his remaining composure with some effort. “Um… ok… yes, please.” The small elf started to wrap the bandages around his shoulder. “Perhaps you should tell Anders that you appreciate his help. Let him know that he is welcome here”, Merrill said. “I imagine Anders must be very lonely. Since you came back from the Bone Pit he is spending even less time with us. Oh. I guess he is seeing you more often instead…”

Fenris didn’t know what to reply. “He really wants to be your friend, Fenris. I hope you are aware of that.”

“I’m not so sure…”, admitted the warrior. He pulled the tunic over his head and got up to get some water for them. 

“I am”, said Merrill, unbothered by Fenris’ doubts. “He paid me a visit, just to tell me I shouldn’t bring any alcohol to card night and how to treat you. Anders seemed very concerned.” Fenris’ mouth dropped open. He had had his suspicions – no alcohol at a party with Hawke, Varric and Isabela had up till now seemed impossible to even imagine – but Fenris had certainly not expected the mage to run to all of their friends. Just for him.

Fenris sighed. He felt even worse now. Perhaps he should simply bare his heart to everyone and be done with it. He could still leave the city afterwards. At least Anders wouldn’t have to feel bad then.

“Thanks Merrill”, he mumbled and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. The small elf smiled. “You’re welcome!”

On the next day, it was Isabela’s turn to show up at the mansion. Fenris felt much better already and soon he wouldn’t need the daily treatments anymore.  
The pirate and he had been playing cards for some time, occasionally interrupted by a sneeze from Isabela, talking about Hawke’s latest idiocrasy – she had annoyed some nobleman – and how she would wind out of the affront, when Anders entered. 

“Ah, finally! We have so been looking forward to the visit of our favourite healer!”, she teased, but Anders ignored her. Actually, he didn’t say anything. He silently walked through the kitchen, put down yet another bag with supplies and unwrapped the new bandages he had brought along. 

Keeping the conversation with Merrill in mind, Fenris tried to show some friendliness. “Anders… Um, thanks for coming over again…”, he stuttered. How very unfortunate it was that of all people it had to be Isabela’s turn today. She threw a wide, encouraging smirk at Fenris. And sneezed, which ruined the effect of the smirk entirely. The allergy was just as bad as ever.

The mage only shrugged, his expression unreadable, posture tensed up like on the other days. Anders stood there and waited for Fenris to move. 

“Bad day?”, asked the pirate, eyeing them suspiciously. She got up and started to examine the supplies Anders had bought. “Just the usual”, Anders said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. “I’m fine.”

Fenris hesitated. This had really gotten out of hand. And the mage didn’t seem anything close to fine. The dark rings under his eyes were even deeper than usual, and his eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept at all. Or cried? Fenris had to do something. Now. If he messed things up, Anders might not be coming to his mansion again. And he wanted him around. But there still was Isabela.

“You’re obviously not…”, stated the former captain. She had finished with the supplies, but didn’t sit down again. “Do we need to beat up some Templars or has someone upset you?”  
A questioning eyebrow was raised at Fenris, who bit his tongue, but was certain his face told Isabela all she needed to know. 

Yes, Fenris had been distanced and brisk. Yet he couldn’t explain why that would put Anders on edge. There was no logical explanation and the elf was somehow feeling clueless what to do against it. He couldn’t simply tell Anders about his feelings, while one of their friends was around. Anders would reject him. Their friends would tease or pity him. Fenris knew that he wasn’t able to bear the emotional pain. He couldn’t open up in such a way, only to be left alone again. It would break him.

Anders’ voice pulled him out of his disturbing thoughts. “See, I only came here to heal Fenris. As soon as we’re done, I’ll be gone again. Don’t want to interrupt you. So… Let’s get started already.” Anders avoided to make eye contact again.

His eye’s darting between Isabela and Anders, Fenris had no clue what to do. Fortunately, the pirate had her own ideas, which steps should be taken. “Oh, too bad. I was just about to leave. Don’t want to spoil my mood and I need to get this cat hair out of my nose.” As if to prove her point she sneezed again, then winked at Fenris, which irritated him very much. Isabela denied herself watching the show? That was unsettling. 

“Perhaps the two of you should talk. Or take other actions to settle things. A good old…”  
Fenris interrupted her with a loud: “Bye Isabela!”

Isabela strutted out of the room, which left the two of them alone. No one said a word. It was the first time they were on their own since the incident with Fenris’ tattoos. It was weird. Mustering all his braveness, Fenris said: “You said you only came here to heal me… Er… Would you like some tea anyway?”

Anders looked confused. Not waiting for an answer, the elf got up and started to fetch some logs to feed the small flames in the fire place. 

“Um, Fenris wait! Let me help you with that. If you want my help…”

Fenris turned and finally caught Anders’ gaze in his. Golden eyes were fixed on him. “Thanks.”

Elf and mage were kneeling on the floor next to each other, sharing a deep look. “Thanks for coming here and healing me. I mean it. I… appreciate your concern… You didn’t have to do all these things for me…”

_‘…amatus.’_

Fenris’ heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. 

“It is my job to tend to my patients”, replied Anders, his expression sad. Fenris raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to come here every day…” By now his mind had turned into a blank space. “That was… nice of you… And um… I feel good enough to come to see you… I guess…” Daring to look up, he couldn’t really tell whether Anders was happy or extremely sad. “Right”, was all the healer replied. His gaze dropped to the wood on the floor. 

His gut feeling told Fenris, his remarks hadn’t improved the situation at all. Anders had picked up some of the logs, balancing them on his forearms. Blonde hair strands were falling into his face. Before Fenris could stop himself, he had raised his arm in order to tuck the strands behind Anders’ ear. Almost. Blushing deeply, Fenris stopped himself. In a swift movement, which barely lasted longer than a single blink, he lowered his arm again, his intention dismissed. 

Embarrassed Fenris jumped to his feet. He took a few steps, to bring more distance between him and the way too adorable mage. _‘Damn it, Fenris, what in Andraste’s name are you doing?!!!’_ Then his gaze fell upon Snowpaw, who had just entered the kitchen, perhaps attracted by Anders’ voice or scent. She seemed to like the mage very much. 

“There was something else I wanted to say…” If he didn’t get it out now, he wouldn’t manage ever. Fenris bit his lower lip. “I bought Snowpaw for you… And she isn’t safe at the clinic… So… In case you want to visit her… and me… just… er… anytime, Anders.” 

Having that said, Fenris went to autopilot. He didn’t trust his own common sense anymore. _‘Leaving the city might be a good idea‘_ , he thought. _‘But I can’t leave my friends behind… Venhedis. What a mess!’_


	25. Just talk... or not...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumour has it Anders was once quite good at flirting. Talking to people, making them blush on purpose. Having someone fall for him. Lately none of his communication skills seemed to work. Justice couldn't agree more.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

Snowpaw wound around Anders’ legs as he was still kneeling on the floor before the fireplace. His eyes focused directly on Fenris in utter disbelief. ‘Did Fenris just invite me to visit him?’ Anders felt a hum in agreement from Justice. _‘For Andraste’s sake, Justice, cut it out! I don’t need your affirmation whenever I ask myself a rhetorical question!’ **‘You’re not only asking yourself rhetorical questions. I think it is safer to tell you when you are right or wrong. So, you don’t miss information.’**_

The mage angrily turned towards the fire, carefully placing the logs around the tiny flame. He was tempted to just use a spell. He’d be able to flee the scene a lot faster. While trying to revive the flame, a purring sound next to his thigh and two paws that kept clawing at him for attention brought him back to the present. And made him realize that he had neither answered nor seemed grateful for Fenris’ offer in any way.

“Oh… sorry… Justice was just… sharing his thoughts on the cat…” That was an outright lie, but as much as Justice huffed in indignation, Fenris would never know.

“Oh… your… he has an opinion on Snowpaw?”

The cat in question got more insistent and Anders finally gave in, lifting her up into his arms as he stood up. Snowpaw purred happily, her eyes closed, leaning into Anders’ touch. The sight almost made Anders’ heart melt. Almost. Though it managed to ease a smile from him. A very tiny one, but at least it was there. It felt quite strange. Anders made a mental note to stop the frowning and scowling at once. If his face wasn’t accustomed to a smile any longer, there must be something seriously wrong with him.

Again, several moments passed during which Anders almost forgot to answer Fenris’ question. The second one. Not to speak of the invitation. He was brought out of his reverie by Fenris saying his name. As Anders looked up, he saw the elf uncomfortably shifting from one foot to another.

 

“Sorry… again… I seem to forget the world when I can cuddle a cat.”

He would have blushed. If not for the fact that he was talking to Fenris. That rather made him want to grab his staff and belongings and run. He couldn’t allow himself to be so at ease in Fenris’ presence. Let him see how much he liked the cat… and liked her owner. At best Fenris would laugh at him “Fallen for Isabela’s schemes, mage?”. In the worst case, he’d throw him out “I could never even like an abomination!”.

“Justice was no big fan of Ser Pounce-a-lot back in the old days. He said I was enslaving the cat. It didn’t matter that he stayed with me willingly… He thinks it’s the same with Snowpaw…”

**_‘Anders! Cease this lying or I’ll talk with the elf!’_ **

At this unexpected threat, Anders went pale.

“So… on top of it being too dangerous in the clinic, Justice doesn’t like pets?” Fenris’ eyes went wide. The elf looked confused… and hurt. Only then did it occur to Anders, that maybe talking about slavery in a room with Fenris hadn’t been his wisest choice. Also, that it might come across as if Anders accused Fenris of owning a slave. Pet. Well the implication was there.

“I didn’t mean to say, Justice was right! I don’t think pets are slaves…” Anders hissed, mostly at himself and put Snowpaw back down. She seemed to be unhappy with this new arrangement and stalked out of the kitchen without a look back. “I’m sorry. I’ll simply make tea and put on new bandages and leave. I’ve troubled you enough…”

If the wall hadn’t proofed an inefficient cure for Anders’ stupidity some days ago, he would have considered to give it another try just now. He wasn’t able to be in the elf’s company without stumbling over his words, hurting Fenris or embarrassing himself. That’s why he had chosen to stay silent before Isabela had left them. _‘Isabela!!’_ Anders would have clenched his fists, if that won’t alert Fenris further and gain him even more reproach from Justice.

The fire was finally burning, a kettle set upon it to boil some water for tea and Anders used the meantime to heal Fenris. As carefully as possible. There had been no strange eruptions of energy the last four days. But the very slight flaring of Fenris’ tattoos and the tension in the elf’s body had not escaped the healer’s notice. Anders was almost sure that his healing hurt Fenris in some way. Regardless of Fenris saying it was alright.

The shoulder was mending extremely well. The bones seemed solid and strong under Anders’ magical examination and the bruise was completely gone by now. Anders estimated that Fenris could actually use his arm almost normally again, but he was in no humour to tell the elf yet. Better keep him in bandages for a few more days to make sure everything was well. Which of course had nothing to do with Anders’ worry that as soon as his job as a healer was done, he would be useless again. Or that against all better judgment Anders couldn’t stay away from Fenris… even though he was sure it would all lead to nothing but more heartbreak.

Maybe Fenris’ invitation had been in earnest. So, Anders could see the cat. But what would they talk about? The days in Anders’ clinic topics had come surprisingly easily, but Fenris had been half delusional most of the time. Maybe he had just been too weak to protest…

“Can I put on my tunic. It’s getting cold.”

Anders shook his head and was suddenly aware of his surroundings again. His hands still slightly hovering over Fenris’ shoulder. He must have stopped healing and stared at nowhere for at least a minute.

“…sure. Just let me finish the bandages. I might have some balm to warm the shoulder somewhere as well.”

The mage searched his poaches for the balm and found it shortly after. “There it is!” Placing the balm and bandages back on Fenris’ shoulder didn’t take long. Anders had done it so many times now, he guessed he would even be able to do it in complete darkness. _‘I am the greatest idiot ever!’_ Justice didn’t have time to comment on that, before the vague image of Anders’ hands carefully stroking Fenris’ shoulder in utter darkness, lyrium brands pulsing faintly, flitted through their shared mind. For once the spirit seemed to understand why Anders was mad at his treacherous brain. And even if the spirit was just reminiscing on the lyrium lines on Fenris, Anders didn’t care. He needed to get this over with. Now!

Tea was an awkward affair. At least the warmth balm seemed to do its job. Fenris from time to time stared in pleasant surprise at his shoulder. They spoke little. Mostly about the cat and that there were almost no rats anymore. And the weather. Anders had never been as glad to talk about the weather.

“So, I’ll be back tomorrow?” Anders tried a smile. Judging by Fenris’ look back at him he was either doing a very poor job at smiling or Fenris was somehow in pain. At last the elf shook his head. “I said I’ll come. Stay in your clinic, mage.” _‘So much for wanting me here…’_

“Alright. Then take care. You can’t wield your sword one handed! Don’t get attacked on the way to the clinic!” Anders had meant to say it as a joke, but the more he thought about it, the more he worried. What if that happened? Thugs attacking an elf in Darktown. That wasn’t even a rare occurrence. _**‘You can’t leave him to harm, Anders!’** ‘I can’t force him to stay holed up in his house either!’_ “Goodbye Fenris!” Anders almost wanted to follow the impulse to hug the elf. But instead he awkwardly waved and walked away as fast as possible. _‘That’s becoming a habit…’_

The day went by with Anders’ head spinning in circles like a spinning wheel. He was lucky there were no severe injuries among his patients. He wouldn’t have been in a state to process the right procedure correctly. Nothing made any sense any more. Maybe he wasn’t just useless for Fenris. Maybe he was. Maybe Fenris wanted to see him, not just offer to visit the cat. Maybe Isabela was simply getting in his head and his infatuation with the elf was just imaginary. _**‘I would like to point out that…’** ‘SHUT UP JUSTICE!’_ Anders was fuming with anger at Justice. And himself. He had been cut off from his other friends due to his instable emotional condition for over a week now. Not counting the card night and the awkward meetings at Fenris’ mansion. The misunderstanding between himself and Varric was also still somehow unsolved.

At least that was an issue, he could attempt to get rid of. First thing in the morning Anders would visit the dwarf and make it clear that he had no interest at all in Marian Hawke! At least that Anders knew with certainty!

“Varric! Listen! No talking, no interruption, just listen! I am not… and I will say it twice so you believe me… I am NOT interested in Hawke!” As soon as Anders had opened the door to Varric’s quarters the next day, he had rushed into the room, shouting what he wanted to get out, before Varric could evade him.

The dwarf stood next to his desk, staring perplexed at the seemingly flustered mage.

“That is… nice to know Blondie…” He cleared his throat, his eyes showing a glimmer of relief for a fracture of a moment before breaking into his usual smile. “I’m sure Fenris and I are very interested in that!” He nodded towards the fireplace and only then did Anders notice the elf sitting there. His wide eyes were focused on Anders in confusion. The mage instantly flushed a deep red. _‘Why does this always happen to me?!’_

“Good… now you know and I can… go. Bye!”

His exit was just about as hurried and sudden as his entrance had been.

 _‘What was I thinking?!’ **‘You wanted to ease Varric’s suspicions?’** ‘I know!!!’_ Even the loud groan Anders let slip at Justice’s comment didn’t express how frustrated Anders was. And as brilliant as Justice was when it came to mage rights and even discussions about healing… he was the greatest misfortune when it came to relationship advice.


	26. Bad idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris tries to get his guts together to knock at the clinic door. It seems as if this is a very bad idea and love only leads to heart break.
> 
> (by glowelf)

“Anders is acting quite strange recently. Please tell me it has something to do with your stay at his clinic, Fenris, or otherwise I’m going to be even more concerned than I already am.”  
Varric’s words echoed through Fenris’ mind and made his stomach turn. 

The elf had raised his hand to knock on the thin wooden door for the third time now, and still hesitated. _‘Shall I enter? Or shall I leave Anders be? My shoulder is better, so there’s no reason to bother him any longer. And he seemed so cold and distant the last time he was at the mansion… Perhaps he doesn’t want to see me anymore…’_

It was dark already and Lowtown was definitely no cosy place to be at night. A few torches and small fires behind always open windows were lit, and summoned dancing shadows, which followed Fenris’ every move. The warrior wasn’t scared by the gloomy streets or whatever thieves might lurk behind the next corner. He was scared to face the healer. A mage and a friend of his. A man he had learned to trust and love. Which apparently was about to ruin their friendship.

_‘I am the greatest fool in Thedas…’_ , Fenris told himself, not for the first time on this day. His intention to see Anders had caused him a lot of trouble, since the elf had no idea when would be the best time to show up – he didn’t want to make other patients wait or stress Anders out –, if he should bring something for Anders – the healer would take no payment, he had pointed that out several times – and how he could deescalate the thing that was going on between them. Awkwardness was no longer a sufficient term to describe it. All Fenris could hope for, was that the mage didn’t hate him. Anders’ behaviour on the other hand had been weird and disapproving and rejecting and…

Fenris clenched his fists in angry desperation. 

He had even turned to Varric for help. The plan hadn’t worked out, since the blasted healer obviously had had a bad day, too, and interrupted their meeting with a very unique performance.   
_‘At least Anders isn’t into Hawke’_ A small relieve, in comparison to the whole catastrophic situation, but still. 

Fenris’ feet were getting cold and so he uncomfortably walked on the spot for what felt like another eternity. There was no light to be seen in the clinic. Perhaps Anders wasn’t home anymore. But the lantern was still outside, dangling above his head as if to mock the elf for his insecurity. 

When Fenris had almost decided to leave, and return tomorrow, he heard a croaky voice behind his back. “You should go and see him, lad!” The sudden sound made Fenris jump. An old man was sitting on a shabby blanket, watching Fenris with curious eyes.

“Bet you’re the pretty elf, all the women down here chatter about. The saviour of those miners, who took a hit to the shoulder? That’s you, right?”

An involuntary blush spread across Fenris’ cheeks. “Um, yes…” The beggar gave him a sketchy smile. “You’re a good person. Can tell as much. Thank you. Kirkwall needs more people like you and the healer. Now in you go!”

The man waved with his arms, as if to push Fenris in. It indeed helped. Not wanting to spend another moment with somebody witnessing his embarrassing struggle, Fenris mumbled a short thanks and knocked at the door a bit louder than necessary. 

He neither had been aware that he had drawn so much attention to himself nor that he had a reputation as a hero. Those confusing thoughts in mind, Fenris found himself standing rather speechless before Anders. 

The healer’s eyes widened in surprise as he opened the door. He didn’t look well. There were those treacherous red eyes and dark rings underneath them. It certainly had been a long day.

“Fenris. I wasn’t expecting you…”

The elf had no clue if that meant Anders indeed hadn’t expected him to come over or if he was later than expected. _‘Or am I not welcome?’_

“Can I come in?”, his reply sounded like an all-or-nothing question to himself. As if it implied so much more than simply entering the clinic. Only Anders was certainly not getting that kind of subtext. _‘Because he has no crush on a stupid elf like me!’_ Fenris crossed his arms in front of his chest. Well, he slung his left arm around his chest. It was cold and he was nervously awaiting a response.

“Sure.”

Fenris followed Anders inside and immediately there was that almost unbearable tension between them. The mage hadn’t even been able to answer the questions Fenris had asked on their last meeting at his house. Fenris was sure it was all his fault. If only his markings hadn’t flared up on that blighted afternoon! If only he could act normal when being around the mage. If only he wasn’t in love with Anders.

“I will fetch some new bandages. Sit down. If you like.” There was a short pause and Fenris wasn’t sure whether Anders was speaking to Justice or simply waited for the elf to act. The look on his face was distant, but that wasn’t an unusual thing at the moment. Fenris simply stood there indecisively. 

“You can also sit on my bed... It might be a bit warmer over there.” The simple instruction made Fenris blush and he turned away hastily. “A-alright.”

The healer was back in no time at all, most likely he had prepared all the necessary stuff hours before Fenris arrived. Not for the first time Fenris regretted it had taken him so long to get to the clinic, although he had had no urgent appointments. 

Not daring to start a conversation, Fenris simply started to undress. His shoulder was indeed better. It was beyond him how Anders had managed it. It was a miracle. Yet, the elf couldn’t get his guts together to tell the healer.

“I’ll start now”, explained Anders and carefully placed his hands on Fenris’ chest to remove the bandages.

“Yes, thanks.”

Fenris hated himself for not telling the mage how much the healing was appreciated. Yet all his concentration was focused on not flinching under Anders’ soft touches. Or worse… Forcefully pushing all wild imaginations which involved a certain mage and way too much skin-on-skin contact, the elf stared at the opposite wall, clenching his teeth. 

The movements ghosting over his chest and shoulder abruptly stopped. Two critical eyebrows were raised at Fenris. “What’s wrong?”, asked the elf, his voice tense and his head still not turned towards the mage. 

“You… you are not well!”, exclaimed Anders. “You tense up like I’m hurting you, you avoid eye contact, you are obviously uncomfortable or even in pain! Tell me what’s going on! Please, for Andraste’s sake, Fenris! I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

_‘I love you!’_

Fenris swallowed hard to stop the next best sentence in his head from bubbling out. His hands balled into fists he forced himself to look into Anders’ eyes.

_‘Bad idea!’_

Those golden eyes he liked so much…

“Everything. Is. Fine.”

It was an outright lie and Anders didn’t seem to buy it. The mage’s expression changed from concern to disapproval to something Fenris interpreted as a mixture of irritation, disappointment and anger. 

Oh, he simply wanted to grab that idiot by the collar of his tunic and pull him downwards to show him what was wrong here. And then Fenris wanted to kiss those adorable red lips. And Anders’ nose.

“Not. Uncomfortable. When. Around. You.” He wanted to caress Anders’ cheeks. See, if the stubble would feel rough against his skin. Place a gentle bite on that long pale neck. Fenris wanted to… 

To his own horror, Fenris saw his left hand rising in the direction of Anders’ face. The mage didn’t notice the apocalypse that was about to meet him at all. He was showing that distant expression again, and this time the elf was sure, he was talking to his spirit. It was funny that Fenris had time to think about it, while his body acted on its own perfidious behalf. 

“Your. Healing. Doesn’t. hurt.”

When his hand finally came to a halt, it was cupping Anders’ face. Fenris blushed in the deepest of reds, a hot sensation roaming through his whole body. And Anders all at once snapped back into reality again, his eyes glowing dangerously blue, anger plain in his voice. 

“SHUT UP!!!!”

Fenris flinched like he had taken an actual hit. He also jerked his hand back, as if he had burned himself. His markings had sprung into action and filled the room with a gloomy light. 

Anders stumbled backwards, both hands on his head, pushing back his own glow. 

“Kaffas.”

It was all there was to say. 

Not in his worst nightmares Fenris had dared to think of such a reaction to the revelation of his feelings. Or had Anders missed the touch on his cheek while he was having some discussion with the spirit? _‘No! Stop it!’_ , the elf scolded himself. _‘Makes no sense to keep up any hopes! There will be NO happy ending! I’m not worth Anders’ time anyway!’_

He jumped to his feet, pulled the tunic back on and rushed to the door without another word. As he passed Anders, the mage lifted one arm in an attempt to stop him. Fenris evaded the action with ease.

He couldn’t talk this through. Not now. And perhaps not on any other day to come. When he reached the door that led to the main room of the clinic, Fenris stopped for a second.

“I... I a-apologize”, he stuttered. 

Then he fled out of the clinic, ignoring Anders’ call.

“Fenris, wait!”

It was nothing more but a distant background noise. 

There were no tears running down Fenris’ cheeks, as he ran through the city until his lungs were on fire and he needed to slow down. He buried all the feelings he had deep down in his heart and locked them away.

Reaching his mansion, the elf had no clue what to do next. He felt lost. And very alone. He couldn’t face anyone now, so the Hanged Man was no option. Fenris sneaked into the building and simply collapsed behind the closed door. So, the mage didn’t want him. How could he ever have assumed otherwise?


	27. SHUT UP!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other side of the coin.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

Everything happened in a blur of blue and white.

That Fenris had shown up well past sunset had been a surprise. Anders had not expected him to come at all. Not after the last days. And then the elf had looked so unwilling as he crossed the threshold to the clinic, as if it had been more guilt than free will that brought him there.

Moments after the first shock, Anders forced himself into his usual healer mind set. He told himself everything was going to be fine, when he unrolled Fenris’ bandages and started healing. Justice even made an appreciative comment for once. **_‘His shoulder looks so much better now, Anders. You did well.’_** If not for concentrating on the healing spell, Anders would have smiled. Maybe tonight would be better than the last time. Maybe Anders could at least manage to be Fenris’ friend.

But then everything went utterly and completely wrong after Anders noticed Fenris’ clenched teeth. The tension in the elf’s body was worse than all the previous times. He seemed completely uncomfortable and ready to flee any second. And even after Anders’ reproach Fenris insisted on lying him directly in the face.

 _‘You are not fine you idiot!’_ But Anders said nothing. His facial expression just slipped completely from the pretence of neutrality and he couldn’t prevent his disappointment from showing on his face. _‘Fenris lies. He doesn’t trust me. Why would I ever think he’d trust a mage… or be friends with one… I hate him... no I hate me.’ **‘Maybe he lies because he doesn’t want to concern you. You have not been very nice to him, Anders!’**_ As had become his custom since Fenris’ injury, Justice felt the need to comment on Anders’ internal monologue. Turning it into a dialogue that tormented Anders even more than his own thoughts and worries did. Because Justice kept pointing out, what Anders feared the most. That Fenris felt rejected and didn’t like him at all.

Anders saw Fenris’ lips move out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t register what he said. He fought really hard with himself to neither yell at the elf to stop this charade and that he didn’t have to endure Anders’ magic if it hurt him; nor to shout at Justice for making his headache worse and loading more and more guilt and despair onto Anders’ heart. But of course, the spirit could hear Anders’ thoughts even at that moment. And despite his nature, Justice’s judgement when better not to interrupt a conflicted mage was worse than ever. _**‘Just tell Fenris that you care for him and want him with you! Tell him that you are worried for him! And that you love the cat and want to visit them both! And don’t forget to tell him that you like him! Hiding your true feelings and motives is unjust, Anders!’**_

The mage couldn’t bear it any longer. He had lost perception of his surroundings and Fenris as the anger built itself during Justice’s speech. And finally, he couldn’t listen to the spirit’s concern and advice for one more second.

“SHUT UP!!!!”

Anders’ eyes flared blue for a moment as the yell broke out of him. And with a start, Anders remembered where he was and who was with him. And what that outburst must have looked like to Fenris.

But it was too late. The elf was already halfway out of Anders’ room. His eyes filled with panic and hurt. _‘No! NO! Don’t leave… if I let you leave now you will…’_

“I... I a-apologize”

Anders’ chest shook under a heavy breath. _‘… if Fenris leaves now, he’ll never come back.’_

“Fenris, wait!”

But Anders knew it was too late. He heard the door close with a bang. Fenris was gone.

And for once Justice was silent.


	28. 'What have I done?!'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris doesn't come back.  
> And Anders would leave it at that, if not for an unwelcome invitation to Card Night and Isabela...
> 
> (by kittenmage)

The days passed without a trace of Fenris. Not that Anders expected the elf to show up again. He hadn’t dared to visit him in his mansion either. Anders of course had attempted to. He was half way through the tunnel to Hawke’s mansion when doubts had crawled back into his mind and heart and Anders had slumped down in the dark, crying. This had happened twice already. Not counting the one time where Anders had made it as far as Hawke’s entrance hall four days after the fatal night, and found out from Bodhan that she was away with Isabela, Merrill and Fenris to do Aveline a favour.

 _‘He’s back to usual then…’_ Anders tried to sound as nonchalant towards himself as he could, while ignoring the nagging worry that Fenris’ shoulder might not be well enough for a fight. As in the last days there wasn’t more than a very weak hum in agreement from Justice. If Anders didn’t know better, he would say his spirit friend was sorry. Not for what he had said, he stood firmly by his convictions. But he seemed to be aware that the timing to pick on Anders’ strained nerves hadn’t been the best and it was at least partly his fault that Anders had driven Fenris away.

The thought alone made Anders’ heart clench again. He would never forget the look in Fenris’ eyes. Anders was sure that by now he was nothing more than an abomination to the elf. Fenris’ apology when he left had undoubtedly been out of respect for their almost friendship they had built up after the Bone Pit. A friendship that now lay in ruins. And to Anders seemed beyond salvation.

Because despite their rivalry in the years before, they had had a common ground for a few fleeting days. Which now was… all but trampled into the dust.

A day after Hawke had shown up at his clinic. She was in a very cheerful mood and told Anders everything. How marvellous it was that Fenris had fought the day before without any inclination of the wound. And that she had been so anxious before because of Fenris’ shoulder, but now was so grateful that Anders was such an amazing healer. Anders had nodded and forced smiles and some when between the tale of their adventure and praise for Anders’ skills had missed the invitation to card night. Instead of “No thank you, Hawke. I’m busy!” he had nodded again, because he didn’t realize at first, that this wasn’t part of her chatter.

“Good! Will see you tomorrow then! It’ll be good to have all of us back together. I’ve missed you!” Hawke had given him a firm hug and went away, as cheerful as ever, while Anders smiled and waved and his heart sank as deep as the Deep Roads.

Was there any version of the story, where Anders could survive the encounter with the elf? Without yelling at him that he was sorry and that he’d been talking to Justice, not him and that he really wanted them to be friends. He wouldn’t even ask for more. Just friends. That would be better than… this. Anything was better than this!

But apparently, there was no such thing as mercy for Anders. As he finally made it to the Hanged Man the next day, he was scandalously late. Choke damp had Darktown in a tight grip and Anders had been busy from the moment he woke up. As he pushed open the door to Varric’s room he couldn’t decide whether crying or running was the appropriate reaction. _‘The Maker really wants to punish me!’_

The only empty seat was next to Fenris. Who didn’t even look up. Everyone else smiled at him, greeted Anders in one way or another. But Fenris’ gaze was firmly locked onto his cards. Even as Anders hesitantly sat down, the elf made no move or even nod to acknowledge the healer’s presence.

“Blondie’s back! Took you long enough! What kept you away from our irresistible company?”, Varric smirked. “Choke damp”, came Anders monosyllabic reply. He reached for a jug of ale, poured a bit into an empty mug and filled up the rest with water.

“Bad day?”

This time, Aveline addressed him. “I’ve heard about it from some of my guards. It’s spreading fast. Tell me if you need supplies. We can’t let it get to everyone in Kirkwall.” Anders merely nodded and offered her a grateful smile. Judging by the last two days he would definitely need every assistance he could get to keep this illness at bay.

After a few rounds where Anders had said almost nothing and Fenris even less, Isabela couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Look at you two! Last time I’ve seen you, you were such good friends. Visiting each other. Even having a cat together.” The last sentence gained her a dark look from Fenris and Anders. “Come now, Isabela! It’s your turn. Leave them alone. Anders had a rough day, that’s all!” Hawke interrupted the pirate’s meddling. She even threw an apologetic glance at elf and mage. Fenris probably didn’t see it. His attention was instantly back on his cards and his drink. Anders would have liked to hug Hawke and slap Isabela at that moment. But above all he wanted that feeling of repulsion to disappear. Fenris had gradually lost a bit of the tension around Anders with every glass of wine – or rather bottle – but his back was still almost turned on the mage. And he hadn’t said one word to him throughout the entire evening. In a desperate attempt to stop his thoughts from spiralling down towards sadness and self-hate, Anders turned towards Merrill who sat on his other side.

“How are things in the Alienage?”

The talk was only slightly less awkward than Anders had feared, but it kept him from tugging at his own hair in despair. Or confessing to the elf. The silence was about to drive him mad. Their close proximity also wasn’t helping to forget about the foolish thoughts Anders had entertained a few days prior. When he had been angry but not beyond every hope. When being close to Fenris had inspired thoughts he definitely wouldn’t want to utter at card night. Ever. Or ever at all. But Anders was known for pining. And stupid and hopeless as he was, the realization that he had driven Fenris off, probably for good, made his own feelings grow even more. 

“I’m a fool!”

Before he could stop himself, the words flew from Anders’ mouth. And gained him a chuckle from Isabela. “Oh, you are sweet thing. That was the worst card you could have played. Is Fenris secretly distracting you under the table?” 

Anders was glad he wasn’t drinking something, because he would have definitely choked on it. Still his eyes got wide. And he got slightly angry at Isabela. Which wasn’t good. He hadn’t been any good at handling his anger lately. Before he could say something, though, Fenris spoke up indignantly: “I’m not doing anything of the sorts, Isabela. Stop hoping for someone to fulfil your fantasies…”

If Anders weren’t so wound up in his own misery and welling rage, he would have allowed the thought that Fenris’ comment almost sounded a bit like regret. But Anders knew that could only be his foolish imagination. Isabela’s next comment though, made Anders explode.

“You can’t tell me, there’s nothing going on. Come on I have seen you guys together. No one can deny the tension!” Isabela chuckled lowly and continued. “I just think it’s highly unfair you keep all that to yourselves. You could at least give us a little show!”

With a loud bang, Anders slammed down his hand of cards. “Are you quite finished?!” He glared at Isabela and suddenly the room got eerily quiet. “Or will you only stop this nagging insults if you see something like this?!”

Following the most reckless and stupid impulse, Anders quickly turned to Fenris, grabbed the stunned elf’s head, and crashed their lips together for a kiss. The elf loathed him anyway. So, the only thing that could make their situation worse, was being killed by Fenris. And Anders would rather die kissing the elf, than pine for him for the rest of his life. The lyrium brands glowed instantly but there was no hand phasing into his chest. No overpowering pain of a crushed heart. No hands violently shoving him away.

There was no reaction at all.

Hurriedly Anders let go of Fenris, but didn’t turn away fast enough to escape the wide, questioning eyes. 

“Happy now?” Anders spat out as he focused on Isabela again. “Because that’s all you’re ever going to get, because Fenris hates me! And that will never change!”

Reality trickled back into Anders’ brain that was dazed by the anger and the confusion at his own daring move. And as it sunk in, Justice spoke up again for the first time in five days. His voice soft and hesitant: **_‘Anders, you’re crying…’_**

True enough.

As Anders brought up his hand to touch his cheeks he felt tears running down his face, staining his fingertips. His friends stared at him. Not even Isabela said anything. She and the others were stunned into silence.

Almost stumbling over his own feet Anders ran from the room as quickly as possible.

_‘What have I done?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what indeed, my dear...


	29. Throwing one's cards on the table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris' world has been turned upside down. Now mage and elf need to have a talk. Yet things aren't less complicated than before.
> 
> (by glowelf)

Fenris was beyond confusion.

_‘Has Anders just kissed me???’_

Utterly stupefied he touched his lips, were Anders’ had met them. It wasn’t a dream, or was it? Did he drink too much wine??? Fenris felt way too sober now that was for sure. Irritated he looked up and into the faces of his friends, who mirrored his clueless expression. So, it had happened indeed. 

Isabela wore an impressively guilty frown, while most of the others simply looked extremely concerned and somehow… expectant?!

“Venhedis!”

The elf threw down his cards and downed the rest of the wine bottle in one go. Then he jumped up, not giving a shit as his chair hit the floor behind him. He had to speak to Anders.

Now!

And so Fenris rushed to the door and out of the Hanged Man without another comment.

As he spurted through the streets – he could only hope to catch up with Anders rather sooner than later – Fenris wondered what was going on. 

“Are you quite finished?!” Anders had stunned the whole room into silence with his sudden outburst. “Or will you only stop this nagging insults if you see something like this?!” The mage had grabbed Fenris’ head with a firm grip, leaned forward and… The mere memory made the warrior blush from ear tip to ear tip.

_‘What in the Maker’s name???!!!’_

The next thing Fenris could recall, after the irritating yet very exciting sensation of those soft lips moving on his, was Anders yelling: “Because that’s all you’re ever going to get, because Fenris hates me! And that will never change!”

The remark stung, especially since it was stated like a fact. A fact that couldn’t be further from the truth. What stung even more, was the moment the mage had started to cry, at first not realising it and the slight wonder on his face, as he looked down on his own wet hands after wiping away a tear. It had been heart breaking. 

Apparently being way slower than the mage, Fenris had to take all the way down to Darktown. It was freezing cold and the warrior regretted that he hadn’t brought a warmer cloak along.

There was a short second in which the elf hesitated and feared he would end up standing in front of the clinic door again. Forcefully Fenris pushed the door open without knocking. 

The clinic was dark and he could see no patients. Holy Maker! Fortunately, there were no patients! Fenris would have woken them with his rude behaviour. He took a moment to calm himself down. Being confused AND short-tempered was not helpful right now.

“Anders?”, he asked, keeping his voice on the low end, while entering and closing the door quietly behind him. “We need to talk.”

Silence. 

Due to his good night vision the elf could make out the cots and rest of the room quite well in the weak shine of a lonely candle. Fenris took a few steps and stopped, when he heard quiet sobs, most likely coming from Anders’ room. 

With a sinking heart Fenris sneaked on. By now he doubted it had been a good idea to come here. _‘Doesn’t matter! I need to speak to the mage… Now or never!’_

There was the shabby door to Anders’ room. It was decorated with a single branch of ivy. The elf eyed the plant for a long moment, studying the green leaves as if he had nothing else to do. The almost even sobbing turned to a more desperate irregular crying and Fenris couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Carefully he knocked on the door. The crying and sobbing ceased instantaneously.

“G-go away!”

It was Anders’ voice. The mage sounded so fragile that it hurt. Fenris wasn’t sure, if Anders expected it to be him or any of his other friends. Hawke perhaps?

“I d-don’t need your pitying…” 

Bringing up all of his courage, Fenris entered anyway. “I’m not here to pity you”, he said, his voice nothing more than a low whisper. 

The mage wasn’t sitting on his bed. He had collapsed on the floor, his staff carelessly forgotten next to the door. Anders looked as if he had been crying his eyes out for hours already. His beautiful face was wet from the tears, his nose and eyes had taken on the colour of the ball of yarn, which apparently had been enduring the mage’s mood. The red wool most likely had been tossed across the room, party losing its compact rolled up form, spreading loose threads over the bed and the floor.

Fenris closed the door behind him. He picked up the wool in his way and placed it on the way too familiar bed. Then he sat down on the floor, opposite to the mage, who was busy wiping away his tears and cursing under his breath. 

“W-what do you want?”, stuttered Anders. His expression and posture appeared desperate and even a bit frightened, but his eyes were filled with so much more emotion. The elf pleaded to Andraste that one of them was hope.

“I came here to talk”, he simply said.

They sat there in silence for a while, none of them knowing where to start. Fenris hadn’t made up any plan he could stick to, so after some uncomfortable moments of quiet he simply went for the next best thing on his mind.

“Wanted to inform you… that… I… um… Venhedis, Anders, I don’t hate you!”

Daring to let his eyes lock with the mage’s golden ones, Fenris hoped to witness a change from desperation to anything else. Anything really! It didn’t matter what Anders would think, if only that endlessly sad expression disappeared. 

“I never hated you…”

Even if Anders would despise Fenris for his unwelcome visit and rude intrusion, the elf couldn’t have stayed away or waited another second to act. The awkwardness had to stop! And if it ended with the mage or the spirit kicking his butt, Fenris would accept it willingly. For he did no longer intend to keep his feelings all to himself. Not after Anders had kissed him. He needed to hear the answer to that yet unasked question face to face. It would of course be “No, I would never want to be with a mage hating, runaway slave!”

Only there was that tiny spark of hope.

Because maybe… Maybe Anders would… No! It was impossible after all. Or was it…?


	30. No more running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have to talk. There is no way out. No more excuses. They have to face each other at last.
> 
> (by glowelf and kittenmage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is alternating between POV's again. To give both fools the chance to speak their minds.

(Anders’ POV)  
Of course, someone would follow him to his clinic. And of course, it was Fenris. After nothing Anders said worked to make the elf leave again, he found himself sitting across from Fenris on the floor. Both staring at each other.

 _‘Why is he even here?’_ A soft ruffle in his mind told Anders that Justice had an opinion on that, yet apparently didn’t dare to voice it, after the last time he gave Anders advice. _‘Go on.’_ Fenris was still staring silently, if he wanted to speak he would do so.

Something akin to the sound of clearing one’s throat reverberated through Anders before Justice spoke up. **_‘Anders, the elf might not be as averse to you as you fear. His composure is not hostile.’_**

Anders doubted this quite a bit. He had after all violently acted against any kind of decency and his own conduct and kissed Fenris without consent. That was unforgivable! Yet, Fenris didn’t seem enraged. Instead he looked almost terrified. Was it as bad as Anders thought, that Fenris was afraid of him? At least that, he could try to rectify.

“I wasn’t…” A croaking sound escaped Anders’ lips and he coughed slightly ere he continued. “I wasn’t talking to you the last time you were here. But with Justice. Also, I’m not angry with you… I… we… Justice and I had a fight over… something. I’m sorry…” His gaze dropped. He hoped Fenris would say something in response.

(Fenris’ POV)  
Fenris didn’t trust his own ears. So, Anders’ demand to shut up had not been addressed at the elf but the spirit? Even if he dared to assume that was what the mage had just told him, there still was the thing with Fenris’ hand on Anders’ face. 

_‘Why doesn’t Anders comment on that?’_

Noticing that the crying had stopped and been replaced by a slight trembling of hands, Fenris sighed. He had no words to formulate what he desired from Anders. No coherent thought nor sentence was there to be shared to comfort the mage in his breakdown. 

“You’re not angry with me”, Fenris repeated, more than just a bit dumbfounded. 

They sat there, mage and elf, gazes averted from each other. Fenris wanted nothing more than to simply take Anders’ hand and tell him how he felt. Yet he didn’t dare to do it. 

“I… um… I want to apologise for being so off with you…”, he mumbled. His ears sank in response to his fading courage. _‘I suck at talking…’_

“The day my markings activated… it wasn’t your fault! But I shut you out all the same.”

Fenris clenched his fists. _‘Perhaps I shouldn’t be here.’_ Once more he forced himself to continue. It was hard to keep talking and get out all the unsaid things, which otherwise would forever stay hidden in the dark to be finally forgotten.

“Your healing didn’t hurt me. I simply failed to inform you… about what was actually going on…”

(Anders’ POV)  
The trembling in his hands didn’t stop. It was as if the shaking sobs had trickled down into his body, leaving his mouth dry and eyes filled with insecurity. _‘What is Fenris trying to say?’_

“Fenris… what WAS actually going on? You need to tell me if there is anything bothering you while healing! I’m a quite experienced healer but I never met someone with lyrium in their body! If there was an unpleasant side effect you should have told me!” Anders watched as the elf’s ears dropped even lower and Fenris’ face turned a soft shade of red.

“Damnit elf, I wanted to help you, not make it worse!” Without much avail, Anders fumbled for words. How could he make Fenris understand, that he didn’t have to endure a healing treatment if it hurt? How to make Fenris believe that he wouldn’t force his magic on him, if he had known? And how to communicate just how much it meant to Anders to help Fenris? His hands clenched into fists, a desperate attempt to stop the shaking. Anders’ tears were gone, replaced by anger again. He was always so angry lately.

“Fenris! I would never! Never force my magic on you! I can respect that you don’t want magic close to you. But you have to understand that magic doesn’t need to hurt. It can help! And if healing magic pains you, there is something wrong! And I can’t fix that if I don’t know! And I don’t want to hurt you!” His voice rose in desperation at the end, as slight flickers of blue accompanied the statement. As he saw the cracks on his trembling hands, Anders instantly moved away a bit. He didn’t want to hurt Fenris. And he didn’t want to scare him away again, either!

(Fenris’ POV)  
It was beyond Fenris, how their conversation had turned into one of Anders’ passionate speeches about magic suddenly, but all the elf could do was blink and listen when the mage gave him more than just one piece of his mind. 

“And I don’t want to hurt you!”

His voice raised, Anders had ended his rant, flickers of blue swirling around him and revealing his tension that usually stayed undetected beneath the surface. Noticing the blue cracks on his hands, Anders immediately retreated a bit. Only Fenris wasn’t afraid of the mage. Nothing he or his spirit could do to him would be worse than the rejection he was about to get himself by revealing his feelings... 

“You’re getting it all wrong!”, replied Fenris. “You didn’t force your magic upon me, Anders!” This time he searched for eye contact and captured Anders’ golden ones with his own eyes, a determined frown on his face. It upset him that Anders thought he had rejected him for healing his shoulder. For being a mage. It was no surprise he had acted so strangely. Regret and guilt filled Fenris’ heart. 

_‘This is all my fault!’_

Angry with himself the elf went on: “None of your spells hurt me! I’m only sitting here thanks to you… and your spirit... I survived because you were born a mage… You mended my shoulder. You let me sleep in your own bed, you cooked for me, you…”

He had to swallow hard. Somehow the emotions inside him tended to take over tonight and make him say all those things he usually wouldn’t ever dare to say when being around the mage... 

“You cared.”

His last sentence was nothing more than a mere whisper. 

Anders was staring at him in utter surprise, opening and closing his mouth a few times, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. 

“I owe you my life, Anders. I am glad and thankful you saved me. Only… I… Just thank you for being there for me…”, Fenris hesitated.

How could he put Anders in any more confusion or pain than he already was in?

“I gave you the impression I’d dislike you for being who you are, for helping me and I intruded your home… Perhaps I should be leaving, before I mess things up even more... I cannot ask any more of you, than the many things you already did for me.”

(Anders’ POV)  
He gaped. Open mouthed. Eyes wide.

Had Fenris just… Fenris, the elf, that had escaped the horrors of being an elven slave in Tevinter and hated all mages, had just said he was glad Anders was there. And a mage. That Anders was a mage. Or something like that.

The shock trickled from him, as he registered the following words of the elf. As if in trance, he saw how Fenris started to get up, his gaze sternly directed towards the floor. Anders couldn’t accept that. Also, none of Fenris’ speech explained why he had come down to Anders’ clinic in the first place. Why if not to tell him off for the kiss.

The kiss.

It hit Anders as if he’d just remembered what had happened earlier that night.

“Wait!”

The mage was up on his feet before he knew what he wanted to do. The one thing he was sure of was that he couldn’t let Fenris leave. Again. Not before any of this made sense. Even if they had to talk this through all night. Anders wanted to know what was happening. He needed to know. Because it drove him mad.

Without a second thought, Anders swiftly went past Fenris and flung the door shut. Standing between the elf and the only exit probably wasn’t his best idea tonight. _‘Still better than kissing Fenris out of the blue…’ **‘That’s your own delusion mage!’**_

Fenris threw him a glance much like a cornered animal. Anders desperately wanted to wipe away the distress in those green eyes.

“Please, Fenris, wait!”

He paused until Fenris’ shoulders lost a bit of the tension and the gaze got more questioning than threatened.

“Why did you come down here? I mean if not to punish me for… what I did? Or mock me for being so foolish. I need to understand and I seriously don’t!”

Under normal circumstances Anders would have loathed the begging sound his voice had adopted as he addressed Fenris. But at this moment he couldn’t care less. His heart had started racing again. Because, logically, there weren’t many explanations left for Fenris’ behaviour. Other than… that he cared for Anders…

A rumbling groan of anguish vibrated through Anders’ brain that didn’t belong to him.

(Fenris’ POV)  
The cornered feeling he had felt, when the mage suddenly blocked the way out of the room, did not only return but intensified. 

Anders had seemed happy, as the elf had finally managed to say something nice. Only now they were facing a severe problem. If Fenris left, their friendship perhaps had another chance. If Fenris stayed, their friendship would turn to ashes. And be replaced with something good or rather… 

“Fasta vass!”

Fenris was completely unaware that he had clenched his fists to give the tension he experienced a direction. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say, Anders.”

This would be his last try. If the mage didn’t let Fenris go now, he would have to tell him about his feelings. _‘No more excuses and running!’_

“Even if this is true, I need to hear it anyway!”, insisted the mage and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And no matter how bad it is… we might solve the… _problem_ … together.”

Right. No more excuses and running. That was what he had told himself seconds ago. Well perhaps… No. There were no other options left. Except moving Anders out of the way with force, but that was the last thing Fenris wanted to do ever! 

“You will most likely regret this, yet I certainly owe you an explanation…”

_‘Oh, where to start?! Probably not with how much I love the way he smiles… Or… Damn me!’_

The elf looked up at the mage. The person he had fallen for against all odds. It was strange to feel like he was about to lose it. Their whole complicated not-relationship. Anders would tell him to leave – certainly in a polite manner, but determined all the same – and then Fenris would go. He had no idea where to hide away this time. It didn’t matter really.

“Fenris?”

Anders threw a concerned frown at him. “Are you alright? Shall …? Please tell me… I really need to understand this…”, he drifted off and the elf knew exactly what he was referring to. 

A daring thought crossed Fenris’ mind. He took yet another step towards Anders and then another small one. They were standing directly opposite to each other now, only a mere arm’s length apart. 

“I’m s-sorry, if this is difficult for you…”, stuttered Anders. He seemed just as nervous as Fenris felt. Being so close to the healer, the elf took a short moment to look at the mage, most likely for the last time. 

There were those old boots, which certainly didn’t keep the rainfalls in Kirkwall at bay enough. Desperately the elf tried to memorise as many details as he could, for he would never get another chance to be so close to the one person he loved. Quickly his gaze moved upwards. The moment still felt like an eternity to him. 

“I… er…” Fenris fumbled for words that weren’t there. His mind went completely blank, an empty space without a single coherent sentence.

“The point is…” He involuntarily blushed and coughed. What was he doing here? Clinging to dreams, which would never come true!

Then there was the leather coat Anders always wore, including of course the ridiculously fluffy shoulder pieces. Fenris still wondered how they would feel under his fingers.  
And then he had reached Anders’ face. It meant there were no more excuses left. Absolutely no excuses. For real. 

They exchanged a deep look, Anders’ eyes questioning, searching for something Fenris couldn’t quite place, his own most likely widened in fear of what was about to happen. 

“Fenris”, said Anders, his voice close to breaking. Whatever he wanted to add was swallowed by the elf’s reply.

“Well, kaffas, mage…” 

Damnit, why had Anders even kissed him in the first place? Just to prove a point to Isabela, which was completely incorrect? Or could there be another reason???

Fenris suddenly reached up, placed one hand at the back of Anders’ head and pulled the mage towards him in a single strong move. Keeping their faces on the same level and just an inch away from each other Fenris froze.

He wanted to crush their lips together, like Anders had done. He desired to lean in, press the mage against the blasted door. He longed to share another hungry kiss. Only he didn’t do it. 

With their faces so close together, Fenris could feel the warmth of Anders’ breath on his lips. 

Unlike the first time when Anders had touched him in such an intimate way, Fenris’ markings didn’t only react with a faint blue glow – he had been too surprised to move at all back then – no, this time the whole room seemed to explode in blue light. And in the middle of that explosion Fenris finally found the words he was looking for. 

“I love you.”


	31. Can this be real?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with three little words, Anders knows only one way to respond.
> 
> (by glowelf and kittenmage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternating POVs

(Anders’ POV)  
 _‘I’m dead! I’m dead or trapped in the fade.’_

**_‘Not the fade, not dead. Fenris loves you.’_ **

_‘That’s about the same! That cannot be real!’_

Yet Anders’ body seemed to be untethered from his fears as he bent down the final inches to firmly lock his lips onto Fenris’.

Later on, he couldn’t recall what caused him to do it. Whether it was Justice being drawn in by the lyrium that set the room ablaze. Or Fenris’ words that burned in Anders’ heart. Or his own feelings. He had finally given in. His mind a raging storm of unspoken sweet nothings, Justice’s low humming and a joyful, bubbling excitement Anders hadn’t felt for years.

Fenris’ body suddenly pressed flush against Anders, making them stumble backwards and collide with the closed door with a loud bump. For the blink of an eye Anders anticipated to knock his head, but Fenris still held him, his hand firmly entwined in Anders’ hair, keeping him close and safe. Anders’ own hands reached out on their own accord, wrapping themselves tightly around Fenris’ waist bringing the elf even closer in the process.

The kiss was unlike the first. If that one even counted as the first kiss. Because this time, Fenris wasn’t unresponsive in the least. Quite the contrary. He claimed the mages lips with such fervour it made Anders gasp for air and utter some embarrassingly honest moans against the unyielding, hungry kisses. Anders felt his thoughts and Justice shift into place. The tension while healing, Fenris’ lack of talk when their friends were around, the first time he had held onto Anders when he was dazed and relaxed by the health potions. It all made sense now!

No, it didn’t! How could Fenris love a mage?

For a tantalizing moment, Anders deepened the kiss until his breath suddenly hitched and he drew away from the kiss. His eyes searching for Fenris’, looking for affirmation that this was real. Not a dream. Not a joke. That Fenris loved him.

The elf let out a confused groan. As did Justice, but a lot more vehemently. **_‘Why stop… now?’_** came the incoherent question from the back of his mind, but Anders ignored it. Yet he couldn’t ignore that the same question seemed to appear in Fenris’ expression.

Hesitantly Anders took a shaking breath before he said: “You… can’t be serious, Fenris… you cannot mean me… as much as I want this to be real… I’m a mage… I’m… Justice is with me and… you can’t be serious…”

His voice cracked while he spoke. Why would Fenris love him? HIM?! He wanted to believe it, but how could he? After all these years, how could one injury, a cat and a blighted ball of yarn turn everything upside down? Anders yearned for it to be true, that Fenris loved him, as much as he did. Because Maker, his heart was irretrievably lost to the elf anyway.

(Fenris’ POV)  
Still gasping for air, Fenris eyed the mage. He indeed would need some time to let the realisation sink in that this was real. So, Anders shared his feelings?! He had answered the kiss! Thoroughly given in to the desire Fenris had confronted him with. 

The elf licked his still wet lips. He had to reply something, but feeling slightly dizzy and excited and incredibly happy didn’t really improve his eloquence. Anders’ waited, his cheeks flushed, his hair a mess. He looked gorgeous, especially now. Except for the certain degree of fear in his eyes. 

“All I care about… is you…”, managed Fenris between two shallow breaths. “My mage.”

And to prove his point he leaned in again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *scene fades to black* ;)


	32. A red thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of their first night doesn't go exactly as planned.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

(Anders’ POV)  
It had been a week since that night in the clinic. A week that was filled with sadly not as much time spend with Fenris as Anders would have liked. Because Fenris, Maker only knows why, caught the flu.

Not just a bit of a cold with sneezing and coughing. No. It was the fever and headaches and waking from nightmares in the middle of the night, completely drenched in his own sweat, shaking all over, type of flu.

So, Anders HAD spent time with Fenris. And to be fair mostly in the bedroom. But bringing someone tea and providing enough blankets wasn’t exactly what Anders had in mind. Not after he finally knew that Fenris returned his feelings.

 _‘Andraste’s tits, I’ve been a gigantic fool.’_ A second of silence followed that internal exclamation, after which Anders immediately thought a harsh _‘No, don’t say it Justice! Just don’t.’ **‘Why would I confirm what you already know?’**_ The spirit seemed confused. And Anders groaned.

Instead of kissing the elf senseless, Anders spent his nights at Fenris’ side, who was back in Anders’ bed. Fenris had tried to object. But Anders was quite quick to convince the sick elf that he would be a far greater liability if Anders had to walk to Hightown each day. Thus, Fenris gave in. To while away the time in the first three nights, when the fever had been at its worst and even Anders’ healing magic could only do as much, the mage had started to knit.

The ball of yarn sat on the shelf, like a mocking reminder of how their… liaison had started. And Anders needed some kind of occupation for his restless hands. Or else he would have gone mad. So, he sat next to Fenris trying to remember how in the world one made the first row for a scarf. Because it had to be a scarf. For Fenris. That much was absolutely clear to Anders. Just not how to get the thing started.

By the third night, though, he had luckily figured it out. He was busy knitting, the messy result pooling on the floor, when he heard a groan from Fenris and saw how his eyelids fluttered open. Once Fenris fully regained consciousness that night, it put an end to Anders’ poor excuse of a scarf to be and the healer directed his full attention back on Fenris.

Their situation was still awkward. Made even worse by casual visits of their friends who – after an initial degree of worry – had quickly figured out that the elf and the mage weren’t at each other’s throats anymore. Or at least not in the former way.

“Anders…”

It was a hoarse whisper, barely audible, but Anders still reacted immediately. He had been writing on his manifesto again. Now that the insecurity about his friendship with Fenris was no longer an issue, his concentration was back. Or maybe even better than before.

With one swift movement Anders was at the elf’s side. “What do you need? Tea? Water? I know you don’t want a health potion, but it could help make this process a lot quicker!”

Fenris coughed. His eyes were a bit glassy. But he wasn’t as pale as the day before and his temperature had finally returned to something almost normal. Anders placed his hand on Fenris’, who immediately held on tightly.

“Thank you…”

Anders blinked. “What for? You’re sick. I’m a healer, that’s my…” He didn’t get to finish he sentence, when Fenris brought up his other hand to Anders’ lips to stop him.

“You’re with me… as… last time…You don’t have to do this.”

Now Anders could make more sense of Fenris’ words. Not that he understood why Fenris had such a hard time believing that Anders genuinely liked to help others, but that Fenris’ only ever meant to make sure no one was doing something they didn’t want to. Especially with him. Fenris odd invitation. His awkward refusal to be healed. It slowly dawned on Anders, that this had been Fenris’ way of trying to take care of Anders. He smiled and brushed away the hair that stuck to Fenris’ forehead.

“I may not have to. But I want to!”

Fenris’ relieved smile in return made Anders’ heart jump. The elf closed his eyes, leaning into the touch of Anders’ hand. Shortly after, Anders could hear how Fenris’ breath got a little more even, his face relaxed. He was asleep again. Anders’ hand still in a firm hold.

 _‘No more writing or knitting tonight.’ **‘You got the elf in your hand instead.’**_ For once Anders smiled at Justice’ comment. _‘Yes… I have the elf.’_

Only few days later and Fenris was fine again. At least according to him. It didn’t matter how often Anders said, that a running nose and a voice as hoarse as a sand pit weren’t equivalent to ‘fine’. But Fenris would hear none of it.

“I’ve cost you enough sleep.” Had been his answer and shortly after he was gone. Messy red scarf firmly tied around his neck. Anders could only fling his hands through the air and pray that lightning would struck and get some sense into his… lover? Were they lovers yet? He couldn’t really tell. Did one night justify to claim Fenris for himself. To hope that he would return?

Well maybe it did, because when the sun set and there were no more new patients, Fenris was back at the clinic again. Carrying a basket.

Even before Fenris removed the piece of cloth that covered it Anders simply knew what would be in there. As fast as he possibly could, he was by the door and closed it. When he turned again, Snowpaw was already peeking over the rim of the basket eyeing her new surroundings suspiciously.

“I thought I said it’s dangerous for her?!”

Anders couldn’t quite comprehend why Fenris was here with the cat.

“She won’t stay. We wanted to visit you.”

Nothing more than a small “Oh” escaped Anders. That made sense. At least for Fenris’ standards.

The tiny kitten jumped out of the basket, once wound around Fenris’ legs and then went straight for Anders. The mage couldn’t resist. Up until that point he was unsure if he should possible welcome Fenris first or cuddle the entirely too beautiful cat. The cat won. If only by a moment. When he stood back up from lifting Snowpaw into his arms, Fenris was opposite him. A smug grin on his face.

“She’s yours, mage.”

Fenris’ voice was a low murmur, still a little raspy from the cold. But that definitely didn’t diminish the effect it had on Anders. Quite the contrary. Anders gulped visibly when he observed how Fenris’ face came closer to his. Inch by inch. His hands automatically kept on stroking the cat as he bent down a bit. Their lips met and a tiny jolt of energy rushed through him. Fenris’ lyrium brands flared brightly for a moment, then dulled down to a faint blue shimmer. Justice stirred in Anders’ mind, humming and seeking the proximity to the lyrium. The kiss was as intriguing as it was intoxicating. For Anders just couldn’t stop kissing the elf. It didn’t matter to him if a part of that was Justice’s influence. He moved closer, the cat happily purring between them, when Anders suddenly felt Fenris’ hand cupping his cheek. _‘When has he removed the gauntlet?’_ The nonsensical question flashed through Anders’ mind before he felt the brush of Fenris’ tongue over his lips and a deep sigh escaped him. Anders followed the teasing move, when suddenly Fenris retreated slightly. His eyes were darker than usual and fixed so decidedly on Anders’, that he felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Snowpaw is yours, Anders. And so am I!”


	33. Justice's Manifesto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mage and elf finally managed to get together.  
> And Justice has something to say about that.
> 
> (by kittenmage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to @TheJourneymanInn, glowelf and everyone who enjoyed Justice's comments too much ;)  
> There was the demand for one chapter from Justice's POV and here it is. Have fun!
> 
> (I hope you are not disappointed this chapter is not in CAPS or completely **bold** :P )

(Justice’s POV)

Maybe once the mages had the same rights as everyone else and elves were freed from Tevinter and every other injustice on the way was rectified, Justice would have to find the time to write another manifesto. A manifesto on how to court an elven warrior. This was the furthest Justice’s experience went when it came to elves or courting in general. But after he had observed as an eye witness how many struggles were involved in wooing Fenris, the spirit deemed it unjust to withhold his knowledge on the subject.

Anders and subsequently Justice had even less time for writing after they begun the relationship with Fenris. Not that Anders would have used the word “they” but as Justice was part of Anders, it made no sense to the spirit to exclude him from the arrangement. Or so Justice thought.

The elf was accommodating enough. Asking after him occasionally and if they – meaning Anders AND Justice – were doing well. So at least Fenris saw what the healer was reluctant to admit.

One night after another enjoyable physical exertion that Anders refused to call thus, he preferred “love making” or “sex”, Fenris fell asleep in their arms. Anders was soon to follow. Even being a Grey Warden couldn’t keep him up for more than three days without rest. And Fenris insisted that Anders slept every night. It seemed like a waste of time to Justice, but he saw that coming to an arrangement with the elf was beneficial. Anders seemed to be more focused after enjoying Fenris’ company, which made him more efficient in his fewer waking hours, so Justice saw the truth behind Fenris’ claim and gave in.

This night, though, Justice was determined to put the hours of sleep to good use. Once their eyes fell closed and Anders sunk deeply into the Fade, Justice surged forward occupying the limp body and dragged him up from the bed they shared with the elf. Justice had learned that the elf stirred easily at every noise or movement in the room. Anders explained that it was probably caused by having been a slave and on the run. The mage always turned sad when he pondered over Fenris’ tales. And he pondered over them a lot. Justice had informed Anders, that he didn’t need that information as Anders behaved the same way. Even from the time when Justice had been in Kristoff’s body, he had seen Anders wake at the tiniest sound at night, always sleeping close to the fire or one of the other wardens. Justice knew Anders was afraid to be alone. He felt some strange burden, that Anders would describe as unease whenever the spirit tried to access Anders’ earlier memories, memories from before their Joining. Justice did not push. It was unjust to demand more from Anders, who willingly shared his body with him already.

With the greatest care Anders’ lanky body was capable of, Justice sneaked out from under the covers. He grabbed one of the discarded blankets from the foot of the bed – Anders got too cold if he didn’t wear anything for too long – and silently made his way out of the room and into the next. A few months after the relationship had started Fenris had cleared out a corner of the adjoined room and dug out an old desk. Justice had considered it thoughtful. Anders had squealed in delight and showed Fenris his gratitude in an irritatingly unconnected way.

Carefully wrapping Anders’ body in the blanket, Justice sat down und reached for some paper and the quill. The manifesto was almost finished by now. Neat piles of sheets with pages filled with their arguments. Justice felt proud at their work. And being almost done with the one issue, Justice thought it was the right time to start his own manuscript. Before Anders’ human memories of the short courtship would lose their precision. It was already beginning to blur and Justice had to concentrate in absolute silence to recollect what had happened. The spirit didn’t need the failed attempts at showing the elf their affection. Though on second thought, Justice chose to gather these especially to use them as a warning.

Making up his mind, Justice moved Anders’ hand forward, dipped the quill into the ink well and began to write.

**“CONCERNING ELVES: A SPIRIT’S GUIDE TO EFFECTIVELY COURTING A WARRIOR ELF. EXCLUDING ROGUES OR MAGES AND ALL OTHER RACES DUE TO LACK OF EXPERIENCE.**

**Warning: The following actions during a courtship will not necessarily lead to a beneficial outcome and are to be closely evaluated before they are attempted.**

**1\. Don’t let the elf in question out of your sight. They might be injured and reluctant to tell. If you are a healer, make sure to supply them with a constant stack of health potions. Warriors are prone to injuries and should be attended to. If you are no healer, consult one on how to take care of simple wounds and ailments.**

**2\. Elves are like cats. They only want to be talked to or touched when they condone it. Consent is important (as Anders informed me). The best way to understand the current mood is by asking verbally. For an indication if it is allowed to perform any physical attention, keep track of their ears and colour of their cheeks. They colour easily when they are pleased. DON’T confuse the colour of anger with colour of love. The distinction is minimal but essential.**

**3\. Don’t forget to feed your elf. Their liquid diet is unhealthy and insufficient to sustain their health. Make sure to cook for them and substitute wine with tea at least once a day.”**

Justice’s fervent scribbles were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“You forgot: Don’t kidnap their boyfriend out of their bed, because the elf might not like that.”

To his own surprise, Justice felt something creep into his conscience that strongly resembled remorse. The spirit wanted to apply some of his vast knowledge on elven courtship but somehow failed to find the right course of action. Instead he sat there, observing the physical reaction of Anders’ body, which blushed and turned towards the elf.

Fenris let out a low yawn and gently removed the quill from Justice’s hand, placed it back on the desk and pulled the surprised spirit occupying the mage’s body with him. “Come back to bed… there’s enough time for that tomorrow…”

With a blink and a mental note to inform Anders that Fenris had told him not the mage to come back to bed, Justice followed. Beds were after all not a complete waste and could be used for more than sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!  
> Thank you to everyone for commenting, kudos and bookmarks. Thanks for the excitement and shock and being part of this fanfic! We are very happy about every single reader and hope you liked the story as much as we did! This is definitely not the last you'll see of our Fenris and Anders. Although, next time the setting might be a bit more modern and only slightly less awkward!  
> See you soon,  
> elf and mage


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